


Fred and George: Forever and Always

by WeasleyTwins2



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst; Alternative Ending, Battle of Hogwarts, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Comedy, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Pre-Battle of Hogwarts, Romance, Twincest, warning: self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 203,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6920116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeasleyTwins2/pseuds/WeasleyTwins2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deathly Hallows from the perspective of our beloved Weasley Twins. As war threatens to tear them apart, can love triumph over fate? Will their realisation of the true nature of their feelings for their twin shatter their bond forever? A tale of pain, loss and struggle, but for Fred and George there will always be light in the darkness, for through it all they have each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, so reviews would be much appreciated.

_ 1st April 1978, St Mungo's, London _

It had been a long tiring day full of high emotions to cap off a pregnancy that had given her far more cause for concern than those of her three eldest children. But as Molly Weasley stared down into the sleeping faces of her twin babies she knew that it had all been worth it. Their tiny little fingers were clasped so tightly together that they had started to turn a bright pink from the pressure each was applying. Fred had not stopped screaming until George had followed him into the world, but as soon as he was nestled next to his twin in his Mother’s arms he had quickly drifted off into a peaceful slumber. Molly smiled at the clasped fingers, hints of a bond that was already strong from the intimacy of the womb and their miraculous origin from a single cell. The bond that Molly witnessed that day was one set to last a lifetime and more. It would grow stronger as they grew, deeper as they came to understand each other completely, a harbinger of both intense sorrow and utter joy. 

_ Nineteen years later, 26th July, 1997, The Burrow _

The Order of the Phoenix were gathered for a meeting at the Burrow in its cosy kitchen, which had become rather cramped with the extra chairs transfigured by Mrs Weasley to accommodate its members, all of whom were seated and waiting for their leader, Mad-Eye Moody, to begin the proceedings. A good proportion of those assembled possessed the flaming red hair which easily identified them as one of the Weasley clan. 

Much to Mrs Weasley's dismay, four of her children were part of this society, which had been reformed only two years ago upon the news that the evil Lord Voldemort had returned. The Mother was only too well aware that belonging to the Order had a high chance of death, as she remembered with a pang how her brothers, twins Gideon and Fabian Prewett, had perished during the first wizarding war. Now, as she surveyed the six children who were present, she was reminded of her fear that she would lose one of them.

After much persuasion, she had allowed her youngest son, Ron, her only daughter, Ginny, and their friend, Hermione Granger, to attend the meeting, as it concerned their best friend, Harry Potter. Plans were underway to ensure his safe transportation from Privet Drive to the Burrow the moment that his Mother's protective enchantment broke upon his 17th birthday. Part of her was glad that the family's estrangement from Percy to some extent ensured his protection. There was also Bill, her eldest, soon to be married to Fleur Delacour, and Charlie, second eldest, who had briefly returned from Romania to attend the meeting. She let her gaze linger on them for a moment before turning and narrowing her eyes at her other two sons who stood out the most by virtue of their identicalness.

Fred and George, Gred and Forge. The tall handsome twins who had a love of mischief making and an unrivalled wit frequently clashed with their Mother. She did love them it was true, but her failure to share that feeling with them had created a difficult relationship marked by years of expressions of bitter disappointment and recriminations that had led to a wide gulf between them. They never confided in her with their fears nor went to her for maternal comfort; they had each other for that. The years of neglect had tightened what was already a close relationship as twins to a bond that was deeply intimate and strong. They depended on each other for the words of comfort and love that their Mother had never given them.

Their warm, chocolate-brown eyes scanned the room, searching for an opportunity to liven things up a little. Anyone would have thought that they'd gathered to plan Harry's funeral, rather than his rescue. Their eyes briefly met and mischievous smiles momentarily lit up both of their faces, their eyes sending affection through their bond. Although telepathy was near impossible unless you had years of training with occlumency, the Weasley twins had a bond that went soul deep, allowing them to partially communicate via eye contact alone. They had been inseparable since birth and cared for one another so deeply that when one was hurt, the other could not find it within himself to be happy. The boggart that they had encountered during their fifth year had revealed that their greatest fear was to lose one another, and have to live a life without being a Weasley twin. Whilst understanding the seriousness of the times, the twins frequently brought light to the darkness; their jokes and cheery exteriors sometimes serving as a front to their most deepest fear.

Feeling as though they were being watched, both twins looked up and met their mother’s piercing gaze. Sharp, brown eyes met with narrowed blue eyes in a duel across the table. The message was clear:  _ behave yourselves, or else this will be the last meeting you attend _ . Matching brown eyes turned back to each other, backing down and submitting… For now. Mrs Weasley relaxed her gaze and turned her attention back to the front of the room, where their leader had risen and now stood tall.

“Shall we begin?” Mad-Eye Moody barked…

With those three words to open the meeting, the clockwork mechanisms of fate were set whirring into motion, beginning a long journey of painful self discovery and suffering for the two twin souls who were so pure of heart. 

 


	2. Unwelcome Plans

Several hours later, and the debate was still raging on the safest way to transport Harry, with the fewest risks for error.

George tapped his long fingers on the scrubbed kitchen table, attempting to suppress his grin at the sight of Mad-Eye arguing with his Mother. He knew from years of experience that this was usually a futile venture. 

"Are you completely mad Alastor," she shrieked. "Of all the half crazed ideas I've heard over the years, this tops it!" Mad-Eye scowled, his magical eye whizzing around to rest on George, who quickly hid any sign of amusement. He didn't fancy testing Moody's auror skills.

"Now, Molly," Lupin tried to mediate, "I know it's dangerous, but it's the best plan anyone has come up with in hours." Lupin visibly withered from the glare which he received from this and sank further into his seat; running a hand through his tawny hair in exasperation.

George turned to gaze at his twin, who appeared to be busy counting the notches in the wooden surface. This surprised him. Fred had been saying for weeks how he couldn't wait to kick some death eater ass. The memory of Fred's enthusiasm caused him to laugh aloud and all heads turned towards him.  _ Ah _ . Fred grinned and decided to drop him in it; the evil bastard. "Go on Gred, tell everyone your idea," he winked mischievously at his twin.

Damn.

George knew this was in return for the salt he’d put in his coffee that morning. Trust his more flamboyant twin to go about ten better. He felt himself going slightly red and tried desperately to think of something. Put Harry in a large trunk and pretend to be delivery wizards? Shrink him, and apparate him to the Burrow in his pocket? Despite being an extremely intelligent wizard, (his and Fred's Joke shop stood as testament to that) George was stumped. They'd analysed every possibility from every possible angle and were now left with only the ridiculous. Looking about the room, his eyes fell on the flask that Mad-Eye kept at his waist and inspiration struck him.

"Polyjuice potion...?” George suggested weakly, thinking that he could get away with that and let it rest as he heard the others scoff. But then Moody moved to stand beside George and clamped a hand on his shoulder, both eyes trained on George as he spoke, making the others silent again.

“Go on,” he growled to George. “The rest can’t be worse than what has already been suggested.” His eyes whirred to Mundungus, who had suggested hiding harry in a coffin and claiming he had died.

“Well… Polyjuice changes someone’s appearance right? And I know that when Fred or I get in trouble, they don’t know which one to go after… So imagine how hard it would be for the death eaters to go after the right Harry if there were… oh I don’t know… seven or eight? The more Harry’s, the higher the possibility that they pick the  _ wrong _ Harry.” George finished much more confidently.

Half the Order looked surprised at the suggestion while the other half rolled their eyes, thinking that it had to be a joke. Fred too rolled his eyes and looked slightly disappointed that George had escaped complete embarrassment. George nudged his twin in a conspiratorial manner and Fred conceded defeat with a tiny sigh. "Well, I think this is the best idea," Kingsley Shacklebolt intervened, and everyone looked up in surprise.

“You can’t seriously be suggesting that you are considering the idea, Kingsley? It had to have been a joke!” Mrs Weasley interjected with a sharp look at the twins. But looking around at everyone present, she realized that most actually agreed: it  _ was _ the best idea that had been presented. “Oh, fine. Alright. I guess this crazy plan was better than Alastor's.”

Fred turned and grinned at George, who looked back in shock. That was the closest thing to praise that they had heard from their mother since they could remember. 

"Well, that settles it. Who volunteers?" Kingsley asked. Fred and George consulted silently for a second and immediately raised their hands. They were joined by Ron, Hermione, Bill, Fleur, Tonks, Remus, Kingsley, Mundungus Fletcher, Arthur, Hagrid and Ginny…

"Absolutely not, you're not even of age Ginny," Mrs Weasley declared angrily.

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Mad-Eye. "Those of age only, Ginerva, no buts." Ginny looked crushed. 

"Come on Mum," tried Fred, "out of all of us Ginny ought to come; after all she lo-."

Fred was silenced by his Mother's  _ be quiet now _ look and Ginny's hard kick to his shin. She'd always been sensitive when it came to her feelings concerning Harry. George gave Fred a sympathetic look; their sister knew where it hurt. Ginny now looked utterly mutinous.

Mad-Eye began assigning protectors and Harry’s. To both twins horror, they were both assigned to be a Harry. Panic at the prospect of separation from his beloved twin was evident in Fred's eyes. They hated being separated under ordinary circumstances, but this, this was dangerous; they needed to stay together.

"Why aren’t me and Fred paired up?" George questioned, his heart pounding with nervous energy. "We want to stay..." 

"Together," Fred finished, his molten chocolate eyes widened with fear.

For the second time that evening all eyes were upon them. Normally the twins loved being the centre of attention, entertaining the crowd; but when it came to showing their concern and affection for one another they preferred to keep that private. Let everyone think that life was one big laugh to them, but in reality they were attuned to all their emotions. They knew that people would think their close relationship even weirder if they were too openly affectionate. They had grown used to hiding once their naivety had been destroyed by the realisation that through their unusual closeness even for twins, that they were treading a fine line. Therefore, Fred freed his voice from the conflict of emotions within him and continued calmly. 

"We know how to defend ourselves, we'll be fine. Dad can go with Ron and Tonks with Lupin. I'm sure you two newlyweds want to stay together?" The twins looked imploringly at them; surely their family must understand by now how separation pained them both. Despite putting on their most beseeching and humble look, they were promptly overruled by more than one Order member.

"Nonsense!" Mrs Weasley exploded. "You two will do as you're told and be grateful that you're even being trusted with this." 

"You're too inexperienced," Mad-Eye barked. "All of you young people need to be with a properly qualified adult."  Everybody else was looking curiously at them. But Fred stared back defiant; if they were going to risk their lives for Harry then surely it was only fair that it would be on their own terms. They both knew that they would only be half as effective if their focus on the mission was hampered by a deep concern for how their twin was faring. It was together that they were strongest, that their magic was most powerful. Fred and George were willing to lay down their lives in defense of Harry, but it needed to be together. Doing the hardest thing that they had ever had to do, they both nodded; it was clear that the other Order members would only let them help if they obeyed, even though it was George’s idea. For now their Gryffindor courage and the kind of bravery that was unique to them won over the nagging fear that was growing in both of their hearts. 

 


	3. Dangerous Separation

 

With the meeting concluded, the twins retreated to their old room before dinner. It still smelt faintly of gunpowder from the many experiments they had conducted under their Mother's nose. Fred sighed and flopped onto the narrow mattress of his old bed, which creaked under his weight. George stood with his back against the door, opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and closed his mouth into a thin line as he drummed his fingers against his thigh with agitation. Fred, recognising his twin's sign of worry, swung his slender legs off the bed and approached him.

"You okay?" Fred queried, already knowing the answer.

"Not really," George muttered, finding the same worry in Fred's face as he felt in his heart.

Fred sighed again and placed a hand on his twin's shoulder, steering him over to his bed. "It's stupid," he began. "We're nineteen, we know all the defensive spells thanks to the DA, and we've kept practising."

George laughed. "Don't I know it. Remember that time I was out cold for half an hour?"

Fred smiled, "Wasn't like I enjoyed practising Stupefy on you, but you did insist."

"And then you were apologising all evening," George smirked. "Well worth it."

"You git," Fred laughed. "I was distraught! At first I thought that I'd killed you!"

"Then you must be colour blind, as well as deaf," George countered, laughing, "the spells look and sound completely different!"

Fred placed a look of mock surprise upon his now beaming face; George always had the ability to rouse him from the depths of despair. "And how would you know what Avada Kedavra sounds like? Something you need to tell me Georgie?"

"Yeah, that you should watch yourself should you ever try to embarrass me again," smirked George.

"Couldn't be letting you get away with that salt in my coffee stunt you pulled, could I now, brother o’ mine?" Fred replied sweetly, punching George's shoulder lightly. "Your idea ended up being what the Order needed, so it wasn’t… Wait, what were you laughing at anyway?"

George tried and failed to keep a straight face: "Death eater ass," he howled with laughter.

Fred was shaking with suppressed mirth as he regarded George with affection. "It's the little things, eh Georgie?"

George nodded and suddenly pulled Fred into a warm, tight hug. They stayed like that for several moments, drawing comfort from the feel of the other. Their playful banter had temporarily held the worry at bay, but it returned fiercer than ever before. Fred pulled away reluctantly.

"It's silly really, but I can't bear not knowing...Not knowing... if you're okay. We're hardly ever apart, what if something happened and I wasn't there to protect you?" He turned from George, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to overflow. Merlin dammit, he was a weasley twin, a prankster, a joker; but the thought of losing George, his other half, had the ability to transform him into a mushy mess. He remembered only too clearly how Lupin had released the Bogart and he'd been confronted with his twin's lifeless body; forgetting that the real George was standing safe right behind him. All along the fear had been there, but this event had released it to lie menacingly below the surface. George's thoughts had travelled in the same direction. When he'd stepped up to help his twin, he hadn’t expected his twin’s body to appear on the floor… to see him lying there... dead beside his own body. In some way this had made it much better for Fred. It wasn't death itself they feared, but the separation that would occur should only one of them be taken.

George slipped an arm comfortingly around his twin's shoulder and attempted to reassure both Fred and himself. "We'll be fine, everybody's going to be okay, Freddie. The death eaters don't even know when we're moving him. It'll probably be boring as fuck!"

"It'll be okay," Fred repeated, sounding unconvinced. George rubbed his back and stood up, being strong for the both of them.

"Come on mate, I smell food. It's always good visiting home. Blimey, I miss Mum's cooking. No offense, but last night's concoction was… well… to be frank it was disgusting," George chuckled.

"Your face is disgusting," Fred grinned shoving George out the door. "And no, I haven't forgotten we're identical twins. See? Not so cocky as everyone thinks."

With the banter ending their emotional moment, the two returned to their usual, exuberant selves, pushing the fear that they could do nothing about deep within them.

* * *

 

Later, after saying goodbye to family and friends, they apparated back to their apartment above their shop. Tiny and often messy; nevertheless, it was home. Their private haven for the two of them and Merlin they hoped nothing was going to change that anytime soon. Their Mother consistently referred to their lack of interest in girls and dating, but, hey, three’s a crowd right? Fred wasn't a massive fan of change and neither was George; he didn't want anybody coming between them. Despite their jokes, sleep was slow to come for both twins that night. Fred was half tempted to climb in with George, but he supposed that they had to draw the line somewhere. But then again, stuff what anybody else thought they were; the twins had never had much regard for rules and regulations. Worry about tomorrow night's venture still occupying him, he finally drifted off to an uneasy rest.

Business was quiet the next day in the shop. People were getting too scared to venture out unless completely necessary. In fact, most of Diagon Alley was dark and boarded up, with only Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes standing out as a colourful  _ fuck you _ to Voldemort. With little work to be done the two entertained themselves with many rounds of exploding snap, adding the scores to the ever expanding tally on a piece of crisp parchment born from their boredom during classes at Hogwarts.

"That's 5,736 to me and 5,728 to you... loser." Fred tallied up. "I think you should massage my feet for this impressive lead."

"No chance, unless they hurt. We have horrible, bony feet," George grumbled.

"Ah. Well, worth a try. If we go out of business, you can keep a roof over our heads by doing massages," Fred suggested, smiling.

Giving up for the day, they shut up shop and returned to their apartment, butterflies in both their stomachs as they waited to set off. Fred lay sprawled on the couch, throwing a screaming yo-yo up into the air and catching it on its descent repeatedly. Whilst George sat on the floor in front of him with his back leaning against the couch and knees drawn up to his chin. The silence that filled the room was a comfortable one, as all silences that weren’t filled with their chatter invariably were. They could sense each other’s apprehension easily without the use of words. Every now and then Fred reached down to stroke his twin’s hair off his forehead. It was a familiar gesture of affection, often deployed when one of them was feeling under the weather. At last, it was time, and the two smiled reassuringly at one another, linked arms, and disapparated to Privet Drive.

 


	4. So Close

 

With a loud crack the twins suddenly appeared in the quiet, tidy avenue of Privet Drive. Had the circumstances been any different, the two would have grabbed the chance to fill that well ordered silence with beautiful chaos and noise. Fred surveyed the street with disbelief, "No wonder Harry hates spending time here. Could anywhere in the whole wide universe be so boring?"

"Don't think so, but I think how nasty the Dursleys were to him may have been the main reason, mate," George replied, sarcasm obvious in his voice. The twins, one dressed in a suit of canary yellow, the other in deep purple, sauntered over to the group that had gathered a short distance from the Dursley's house. Ron and Hermione were conversing in low voices, no doubt anxious about Harry. "Don't worry Ron, Harry is in safe hands with Hagrid," reassured George.

"Yeah," Ron mumbled. "He's gonna be pissed though when he finds out the plan involves so many people."

"Then we'll have to knock him out, won't we?" Fred grinned. A suggestion which appeared to horrify Hermione. Observing this, Fred chuckled. "Oh, come on Granger. There'd be no permanent damage, right Gred?"

At this comment, George pretended to stumble and fall flat on his face into the grass of a nearby lawn. His voice sounded muffled from him being pressed against the ground. "Sure, you don't really notice the lack of balance after a while guys." This response had Fred in stitches, his bubbly laugh echoing through the street. Ron smiled and shook his head in both amusement and disbelief.

"How you two can find humour in everything is beyond me," he said. The two exchanged a swift look; if they didn't laugh they would worry. Humour was the only way that the twins had ever tried to deal with anything.

"Right," Mad-Eye intervened gruffly. "Let's get Potter safe shall we?"

Fred and George both hung back with Lupin and Tonks, watching as Harry was greeted very enthusiastically by his friends. The elder twin shook his head. "Well, I'm glad that Harry takes his security so seriously. We could have been Voldemort knocking on his door for all he knew."

"That would make for a pretty good prank, if there wasn't the risk that Harry would kill you in mistake," mused George. "But then I reckon it would be a very difficult task to disguise this handsome face as an ugly, pale, bald monster. Wouldn't be so much of a problem for you, Forge," he insinuated slyly. Fred looked outraged at his cheek, but smoothed his face into a smirk and pinched George’s cheek, making him get red in the face slightly. “Whatever you say,  _ twin _ o’ mine.” Following the others into the house, they teased their eldest brother, Bill, who was chatting to Harry, before entering the living room. As expected, Harry was not impressed with the plan. It was too good an opportunity to miss. 

"Well that plan's scuppered then," joked Fred. 

"Yeah," joined George, finishing his twin's sentences, as usual. "Thirteen of us against one guy who's not even allowed to use magic. We've got no chance." It was slightly disappointing that nobody laughed.Yet Harry persisted in his defiance, whereby the twins decided to inform him that nobody really fancied it, leaving out that it was George’s idea: they didn’t want to worry the lad more than he already was. After all what if something went wrong and they were "stuck as scrawny, specky gits forever." George's eyes bulged comically upon 'forever', as Fred smirked beside him. 

Once Harry’s hair was extracted and added to the potion, they moved past the others to receive the Polyjuice potion first. Neither had ever taken it before, and were more than slightly curious about whether the transformation would give them all of the Boy Who Lived's assets.

"Tastes like goblin piss," Mad-Eye informed them.

"Had much experience of that, have you Mad-Eye?" Fred enquired in what appeared to be a sincere tone. George's smile widened, as Mad-Eye was undeniably unimpressed. They had tried jokes, sarcasm, pranks, even an impersonation of him, but nothing had succeeded in making the dark wizard catcher laugh. George was convinced that they had once achieved a grunt after dancing a jig and looking as ridiculous as possible.

"Just trying to diffuse the tension," Fred responded in a sing song manner. As nobody was in the mood to be entertained, not even by the Weasley twins, the jokes were now mainly for their own benefit. They allowed Fred to forget the sense of deep foreboding that was nudging at his stomach. He internally cursed himself for not insisting that they be paired together, fighting the urge to do so now and refuse to allow George to take the potion. Despite his unwillingness, after grimacing from the potion's foul taste, he handed the flask to his twin, who gave a dramatic, “Ugh,” as he took a mouthful of the grim liquid. Suddenly, the twins height decreased rapidly from 6 foot 3 to Harry's rather shorter stature of 5 foot 5. Their features morphed into his and their fiery ginger hair was darkened to jet black. 

"Wow, we're identical!" It seemed nothing much had changed there. George tugged at his now long sleeves, and thought how awful it was being short. It made him regret ever being self conscious about how his height in combination with his hair and identicalness to Fred had made them both stand out like sore thumbs- not that he didn't love being an identical twin… 

After a few snarky comments about the clothing they were changing into, both twins fell into silence, as humour failed to console.  _ Not long _ , Fred panicked,  _ not long ‘till they separate us _ . Indeed, everything was proceeding quickly as Mad-Eye ushered everybody outside to the awaiting forms of transportation, handing each Potter that passed a pair of glasses to match Harry’s. Both twins would be travelling by broomstick until they reached their separate safe houses, before apparating to the Burrow. There was hardly any time for goodbyes as Mad-Eye ordered everybody to mount their brooms, thestral, or (in Harry and Hagrid's case) motorbike. 

"See you at the Burrow, Gred," Fred murmured; momentarily gripping his twin's hand, and feeling him squeeze tightly, before reluctantly letting go and mounting his cleansweep. George’s eyes found Fred’s as soon as he looked up, and he half-whispered, “See you there, Forge.” He quickly mounted his own broom and began tapping furiously on his leg. Fred eyed him with concern. Mad-Eye then began to count them down to take off.

“3.” Both twins eyes found each other.

“2.” George felt his panic rising to the surface, as Fred's eyes were full of fear.

“1.” Fred wanted to scream.  _ No, George don't leave me! _

But leave each other they did. Their brooms lifted into the air to follow their 'protectors' and they were forced to lean away from each other to follow their separate routes to the Burrow. Space was dividing them. Fred stole a last look at his twin and in the next instant he was out of sight... gone. 

“Fred, draw your wand and be alert! We need to be very cautious, I don’t want you getting hurt,” Mr Weasley yelled back to Fred as he led him away from Private Drive, Fred barely heard him over the sound of the wind rushing past and thanked his stars that he had a lot of experience in quidditch listening to Wood bark instructions while they were flying. Fred felt the bond that he shared with his twin urging him to return to him, but instead he responded to his Father's instruction, and drew his wand. He had barely pulled his wand from his jeans when they were suddenly overwhelmed by black cloaked figures. No... the Death Eaters knew that it was tonight. Fear coursed strongly through Fred's body, pumping through him like adrenaline as it filled him with the urge to fight. He sent curse after curse into the mass of Death Eaters that were tailing them. Sweat poured down his face from a combination of exhaustion and terror as a sharp wind battered them, stinging his cheeks.

"Well done son," his Father praised as they speeded on towards their destination, having managed to shake off the death eaters. But this was only temporary relief, as they were soon upon them again, pressing their attack with increased ferocity. Killing curses had entered the fray and twice Fred had to swing sharply left to avoid instant death in the form of bright green light. The shouts of his comrades surrounded him as the Battle of the Seven Potters raged on.

Meanwhile, George and Lupin were undergoing an even fiercer struggle for survival. They were being pressed in on all sides and starting to veer off course. "To your left, George!" Screamed Lupin; who had failed to notice that another death eater had his wand pointed squarely at his back.

"Remus, watch it... behind you!" George shouted. He shoved Lupin aside, their broom’s somersaulting in the air to clear him from the range of the curse, but the death eater was being tailed by another who shouted, "Sectumsempra!"

George screamed in agony, red blinding him temporarily from the pain he felt suddenly in his head.

The spell had completely severed his left ear, and bright-red blood was streaming down his neck. He slumped forward over his broom handle, as his face paled and he struggled to maintain consciousness. At this time, they heard one of their assailants yell, “That’s not the real one! The real Potter is over there!” And they were suddenly left alone as the trailing death eaters trained onto another Harry, who was blasting red spells like a madman on Hagrid’s motorbike some miles away.

Taking advantage of this moment of distraction, Lupin glanced back at George. His eyes widened upon seeing the state that he was in, concern clutching his heart as he saw George’s eyelids start to flutter and him start to teeter on his broom. Lupin swooped to his side, barely making it in time to support George before he fell off his broom. Lupin was gripping his shoulder and shouting to him to stay awake, that it was going to be alright, that they were nearly there. His words sounded faint over the buzzing in George’s head and it was hard to focus on anything apart from the agonising throbbing that pervaded the left side of his head. It had been so close; another inch to the right and the curse would have cut into his brain…

After hours of time flying, or at least it felt like hours to George as he suffered in agony, they arrived at their designated safe house. Unable to maintain control of his broom any longer, George fell out of Lupins grasp and tumbled some yards away, landing roughly in a heap on the ground. "Fred," he cried out. Merlin, how he wanted his twin: he couldn’t remember a time when he had been hurt and his twin hadn’t been there to help him. This new experience terrified him. Lupin landed next to him and heaved him up, none too gently, and immediately disapparated to the Burrow. He was beginning to change back to himself, becoming taller and heavier, making it difficult for Lupin to continue to support his weight.

"Here, help!" called Lupin as they approached Harry and Ginny outside the Burrow. Harry immediately came over in a run, and George felt Harry helping to support him, as a sensation of sickness washed over him. Ginny was by their side in seconds, her jumper that she had been wearing seconds ago balled up in her hand and pressed to the side of his head, trying to slow the blood flow that had soaked his clothes crimson. All four of them moved George into the house quickly, using their combined strength to carry him to the couch in the living room when his legs collapsed beneath him. There was a slight relief, as he was helped onto the couch and able to rest his throbbing head. Merlin, it hurt. When he felt hands cupping his face, he opened his eyes and was met with his sister’s teary gaze. 

“George, can you hear me? I’ve been trying to ask you what happened but you haven’t responded.” Ginny said with a quivering lip.

“To be honest, Gin, I can only hear you on the right side-” But he was interrupted by Mrs Weasley, who had gasped so loudly upon entering the room that everyone had turned with wide eyes to look at her.  

“What did you do?” She shrieked. She’d known that what she saw as her twin sons’ recklessness had been bound to get one or both of them hurt eventually. 

George cried out in pain as a spasm shot through his skull, as he’d been about to deny the accusation of misconduct implicit in his Mother’s voice, bringing everyone’s attention to him as they all crowded closer to make sure he was okay. "F-Fred, w-where is he?" George stuttered aloud through his pain.

"It's okay, my baby, he'll be here soon," she soothed. Despite her reassurances however, the situation was desperate. Hardly any of the group had yet returned. “Hang in there, Georgie, we’ll get you sorted,” Mrs Weasley said, turning to leave the room and gather the medical supplies. She paused in shock when she heard her son talk back.

“Don’t call me  _ Georgie _ , I hate that-,” but he cut off when his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his body relaxed against his will.

George felt as his mind fell into blissful unconsciousness.

A mile from the burrow, the other two wizards jumped as they heard a scream pierce the silent night. Something within Fred had pulsated sharply as the pain filled scream had vibrated through his eardrums.

"Did you hear that? That scream? Who was it?" Fred asked his Father, his voice squeaky and terrified at the thought of someone being hurt or worse... What if it was George? He couldn’t remember ever having heard George scream like  _ that. _ His Father's face was grim, unable to offer his distraught son any words of comfort. Fred steeled himself, there was nothing he could do. It was probably a death eater having his ass kicked. But the nagging doubt at the back of his mind refused to go away. It was with relief that Fred saw their safe house in the distance, soon he would know one way or the other. 

Fred was fully transformed by the time that they had apparated back, his Dad and his arms around each other's shoulders, simply happy to have survived. It was immediately obvious, however, that something was very wrong upon their arrival. Lupin was there, waiting out front, but George was nowhere to be seen…

"Where's George?" enquired his Father abruptly. Lupin's failure to respond, his look of guilt and pity, confirmed all to Fred, his face paling even further as he ran forward towards the house.

George was dead.

 

 


	5. Deterioration

 

Fred paused in the doorway, shocked and stunned to see his twin covered in blood with their sister sitting in a chair nearby, but, thankfully, breathing. Alive. Fred thanked every Saint that he could name that he did not have to face a life without his twin. He knew that he wouldn't be able to cope without him. Upon seeing his  chest rise and fall heavily, Fred raced forward, kneeling on the ground beside George, his face unusually pale. For as long as the people in that room had known Fred they had never seen him lost for words as he was now. 

"How you feeling, Georgie?" He eventually croaked, unsure whether George was even conscious. 

"Saintlike," Fred thought he heard; the whisper was barely audible.

Fred felt horror chill him to his core; his twin had lost his sanity. How were they supposed to run their shop with George completely loopy? The rest of the group had arrived and crowded into the living room, shocked that the full of life Weasley twins had been hurt, but at the same time touched by Fred's obvious concern for his brother.

"Come again?" Fred asked with a frown and furrowed brow. At this, nearly everyone’s eyes widened in shock. It was a rare occurrence when the twins were unable to understand one another, most of the time they could accurately guess what the other was thinking.

"Saintlike," George spoke louder this time, and was smiling. "I'm holey, Fred, ‘geddit?" As soon as George smiled so did Fred; he was going to be ok. Although, Fred had the suspicion that this humour was to quiet his nerves. It was obvious from the way that George's eyes were not fully open that his twin was in pain, but he decided to play along with the joke. If he didn't, he knew that he was going to be very soppy, right in front of everybody. Making a joke of things was what people expected of them and Fred was filled with tenderness at George's concern for him in spite of his injury.

"The whole wide world of ear-related humour, and you go for ‘I'm holey’? That's pathetic." Personally, Fred thought that his reference to ear-related humour was pathetic, but considering that he was fighting the urge to cry, it was the best that he could manage.

"Reckon I'm still better looking than you," George concluded. Fred smiled sadly, momentarily comforted by this reference to George's earlier joke. He knew that his twin was modest and did not really hold this opinion of himself; but in Fred's eyes George was the more beautiful twin. There was a gentleness about him which Fred knew he often lacked, even though none of his pranks were intended to cause people harm.

George continued to regard Fred with loving concern; the pain in his head was nothing compared to the emotional pain he found in his twin's eyes.

With their banter, the room had relaxed as the twins’ jokes brought light back to their situation somewhat. Unfortunately, It was at this point that Bill interrupted, bringing more darkness to the night with his revelation that Mad Eye Moody was dead and that Mundungus had betrayed them. This was a significant blow to the Order; there was no other with such a knowledge of dark wizards. His loss was going to make fighting this war a lot harder. Fred knew he was selfish where George was concerned; the death of his twin  would probably have been considered less of a blow to the Order and the war, but Fred knew that he was glad that it was Mad-Eye they had lost that night. And he hated himself for that thought. For his selfishness. But he loved George more than anything else, and he would never trade his twin’s safety for anything.

Even as everyone was toasting to Mad-Eye, Fred never left George's side. He was joined momentarily by Bill enquiring of Fred how his little brother was faring. George was too weak to answer for himself.

“He’s in pain,” Fred whispered, eyes roving over the tight purse of his twin’s lips and his glistening eyes. Bill reached to squeeze the hand that Fred wasn’t holding, patting Fred on the back with the other, every inch the big brother in that moment. 

“You listen to me Fred, he’s going to be fine. If anyone can pull through an injury like this it’s a Weasley twin.” Fred forced himself to nod at his brother’s words, but inside he doubted how everything could be okay, his world had changed somehow.

His twin's eyes were closed again and Fred felt a pang at his heart when he realised that he had fallen unconscious again. Placing a hand on George's he squeezed gently to make sure. There was no response and Fred was sure that his twin was noticeably paler than before, his breathing rapid but shallow and his hand clammy to the touch. Taking notice of Fred feeling George’s forehead, Mrs Weasley bustled over, "Right, let's get George cleaned up. Ginny there's some bandages in the cupboard below the sink and..."

She was stopped mid speech, as George began to shake and convulse on the couch. He was going into Hypovolemic shock!

"No!" Fred gasped out, tears escaping his eyes. George had lost far too much blood and his heart was struggling to cope. Everybody crowded back around the couch in dismay. 

"Step back everyone! Arthur, get the blood replenishing potion. Quickly!" Their Mother moved George's long legs so that they were resting on the arm of the couch, above the level of his head. Everything looked hopeless to Fred, as he too felt like he was having a fit. Why George? Hadn’t he suffered enough?

There was a haunted look on Mr Weasley's face as he hurriedly returned from the kitchen. "We don't have one Molly, we must have used them all on the last mission... and they take days to brew." Sobs escaped Mrs Weasley, as she realised that they had no way of helping George. From his condition it was clear that without replenishment of his fluids that George was going to die, and quickly. Fred clutched his head with both hands, crying openly now, as everybody stood numbly, helplessly by. Despair was evident on Harry's face as it seemed that yet another friend was going to die for him.

"Muggle methods!" Hermione shouted suddenly, causing everybody to jump and look at her. "Mr Weasley do you have any muggle needles? George can have a blood transfusion!" Mr Weasley gasped in realization and ran to the kitchen, reappearing with a hypodermic needle, which he handed to his wife, who was thankful that her husband had finally persuaded her of the usefulness of such muggle items. There was only one problem however… She had never used one. Nor did she necessarily have any idea how the needle was supposed to be used. Muggle items were more her husband's specialty. But she’d be damned if she was about to let her son die because of that.

Fred, however, had seen something like this in his Muggle Studies textbook back in his third year. Vaguely understanding what was happening, he rolled up his sleeve and bared his arm determinedly; he was going to save his twin. Ron came forward, offering his arm too, but Fred shook his head. "Rare blood type, remember bro? Comes with being rare in the first place," he smiled weakly through his veil of tears.

Mrs Weasley sighed in slight frustration. "Fred. He's lost so much, a pint won't be enough. We will need as much as we can get to replenish his blood safely." 

"I'll give him as much as he needs," he replied fiercely. Mrs Weasley knew that Fred, being as stubborn as he was, would make himself ill before letting George die.

Sensing that Mrs. Weasley wasn’t fully aware how the muggle method was supposed to be used, Hermione had dug through her bag and pulled out a plastic ziplock bag that she had kept some first aid supplies in during their conversation and now stepped forward with the now empty bag in one hand, and the coat rack that was nearby in her other grasp. She dragged the coat rack by George and everybody looked at her as she spoke and worked with precise movements, “Fred would be our best bet, Mrs Weasley. We don’t know that any of the others have the same blood type as George, and the only way for this to work is for the blood that he is given to be compatible with his own. Any of your family could have a chance of matching but it is highly likely that they might not, and if they don’t match it could kill him. But identical twins come from the same egg in the womb but split, and thus almost always have the same blood type. It’s rare that they wouldn’t. Seeing as we don’t exactly have the time to determine if anyone else in this room’s blood would work, I’m going to say that Fred is the best option we have.” 

As she was hurriedly explaining, she took the needle from Mrs Weasley and used magic to make a second needle, and transfigured the bag into a two part IV drip that connected to the needles. Seeming satisfied with her quick work she hung the bag on the coat rack and quickly took her elastic hair tie from her ponytail and broke it, turning to Fred and grabbing his arm. She quickly tied off the elastic band around his upper arm and took a rag from nearby and handed it to Fred. “Now, Fred, relax your arm muscles and squeeze this rag.”

Knowing better than to question the brightest witch of her age, Fred did as he was told and squeezed the rag. Hermione was saving his twin right now, he would do anything at this point.

She pointed her wand at the needles and cast a sterilizing charm on them, and then inserted one of the needles as gently as possible into his most prominent vein. It only took one try, but given her inexperience it hurt. Fred grimaced; willing to bear torture if it meant George's recovery. Fred started to feel slightly queasy at the sight of his blood entering the drip bag, barely noticing how his Mother had begun to caress his hair, or that Hermione had taken back the hair tie. Fear continued to sicken Fred at his core, as he knew this was no guarantee that George would survive. His injury went beyond the visible.

Hermione said to Bill, “Hold George down, I need to get the needle into his arm but he is thrashing too much!” And with great effort, Bill managed to pin George down to the couch and Hermione found a vein that would work for the IV. The blood began to flow from the bag into George’s arm, and within seconds, George’s thrashing lessened to small spasms.

"Lupin, who did this?" Mrs Weasley asked, her tone hard as she watched her son, unable to help as he was being tended to.

"Snape," was the bitter reply, "his hood fell off."

White-hot hatred bubbled through Fred, turning his usually soft features sharp with an anger that threatened violence. His look shocked those still present, as Mrs Weasley observed his sudden change in emotion with increasing concern. Without George's restraining influence, should he die, there was no doubt that his twin would become unstable.

"To bed or to home, it's late," Mrs Weasley quickly dispersed everyone.

Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded. "I should be getting back to the Minister, we'll convene two weeks from now." With Mad-Eye's death he was the best choice for the new leader of the Order.

Tonks threw her arms around Mrs Weasley and then crossed the room to hug Fred. "Tell us how he gets on Molly, and let us know if you need anything Fred..."

Fred awkwardly received the hug; although grateful that people understood how he was feeling. Tonks took her husband’s offered arm and they followed Kingsley and Hagrid outside. The rest including Bill and Fleur who were staying at the Burrow until their pending wedding was over retreated quietly upstairs with many a concerned look in the twin’s direction apart from Ginny and their Mother. Fred had now donated his twin a pint, but was bitterly disappointed at the lack of improvement.

"Right. Fred, dear, we'll see how he gets on with that..."

"No," the violent glint had returned to his eyes. "He needs more... he needs..."

Ginny pulled in a chair from the dining room, and hooked her hands under Fred’s arms, heaving him off the ground and into the chair with slight help from him. When he turned to her with questioning eyes, she simply responded with, “If you are going to give more, you should probably be comfortable. Hermione gave me a run-down on what needs to be done if you are to donate any more any time soon. She recommended you get comfy, ‘cus this is going to take a while bro.” She left the room with their Mother and came back a moment later with another chair that she put right next to Fred’s, before settling into it and placing her arms around Fred in a soothing manner, rubbing his arm in small circles that gave Fred small comfort. He leaned into the hug as Mrs Weasley returned to the room with four packets of biscuits.

"Eat," she instructed briskly.

"I feel sick," Fred muttered.

"Frederick Gideon Weasley. You cannot help him if you collapse, now eat!" This talked some sense into Fred who began to cram digestives into his mouth. They tasted like cardboard, but he chewed them fast and moved onto another one.

Hours passed and Fred had just got through two packets of digestives, and had managed to give three pints of blood to his twin. Sickness had crept over him half an hour ago, and he felt that if he gave any more he would pass out. Ginny had given in to exhaustion and had slumped over in her chair and was using his lap as a pillow. It made Fred’s mouth turn up a little in the corner, as it reminded him of back when they were very young and Ginny would sneak into the twin’s room where they would come up with bedtime stories, a different one every night, and Ginny would fall asleep on one twin or the other after or during the story. They would put her back in her room and tuck her in, and even though it had been a long while, Fred could recall it as though it were yesterday. Looking over at his twin wiped any trace of amusement from his mind, however. What would those memories be good for if his twin didn’t make it?

"You've given him more than enough, Fred. We can only wait now," His Mother whispered as she pulled Fred into a bone crushing hug. "I understand sweetheart, I know," she rocked Fred gently as his body shuddered with suppressed sobs. George's head was now neatly bandaged and the blood had been cleared away.

Mrs Weasley gently woke Ginny up and pulled her along with her to get her to bed as she left the room to check on the others upstairs.

Scooting his chair closer to the couch now that his lap was free, Fred reached out to caress his twin's cheek. He adjusted the blanket to wrap it more securely around his twin and placed his lips softly against George's forehead. With his lips pressed to the warm skin, he whispered the words he had been longing to say since the moment George had passed out, but hadn’t for worry of others reactions:

"Come back to me." 

Hours passed, the others had since long retired to bed; Fred alone remained by his twin’s side, leaning in close to him. The night passed achingly slowly for that anxious watcher searching for any sign that his twin’s condition was improving. Dawn came, but the golden rays of light that penetrated through the chinks in the living room curtains were not sufficient to dispel the terror of the night. The grasping fingers of exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him, but he would not give into rest until he knew that his George would be okay. And as was typical with the Weasley twins, the stubborn defiance won out. Sleep was kept at bay. Fred gently adjusted the bandage that was wrapped securely around his twin’s head and brushed his hair off his forehead, painfully reminded of the last time he had repeated the gesture. Then, George had been whole and safe; Fred could not ignore the developing notion that he had failed to protect the one thing that mattered most to him in the world. The person who meant more to him than jokes or pranks, heck, who was more important than his own life. He had failed his twin by giving in to the Order’s demands. He’d allowed George to leave his side during the most dangerous moment of their lives so far, and he cursed himself for it. A tender hand was lain against the unconscious twin’s cheek, its owner relieved to feel a soothing warmth emanating from that smooth cheek. George’s skin seemed to have regained some of its colour and was no longer deathly white. His twin shivered, even though the room was not cold, at the passing image of Lupin bearing a corpse rather than George’s barely conscious form. Tears leaked from the corners of Fred’s eyes as he struggled to overcome his panic. What if George never woke up? What if he’d lost his memory? Consumed by terror Fred’s mind had lost all sense of rationality. He needed George. He felt lost without his grounding presence. 

“Georgie,” he uttered breathily in a tone that encapsulated love, fear and hope altogether.

That hope was finally answered as George's breathing returned to normal, and his heart picked up to resume its usual, steady beat. Fred paused upon hearing the changes, and pulled back to look at George’s face. And then the best thing Fred could have asked for happened.

George opened his eyes.

 

 


	6. Recovery

Relief spread across Fred's face, despite the confused look in George's eyes. His twin was safe, but Fred couldn't help regard the gaping hole in his head with consternation: they were no longer identical. Fred supposed that they hadn't been completely identical in the first place, or nobody would ever have been able to tell them apart. This injury, however, would prevent them from ever indulging in their favourite joke again; pretending to be each other. 

For some inexplicable reason, this thought scared Fred. The two had always felt a sense of security from not really been considered as two separate individuals. Other twins would have hated this, wanting to be recognised as unique, with individual interests. But for Fred and George Weasley they fulfilled all the ‘twin stereotypes’; their personalities complimenting each other perfectly.

"Fred...Wh...what happened". George's voice sounded sluggish.

Fred took hold of George's hand tightly. "You were injured...remember?"

"Oh yeah, I'm holey." George touched the side of his head, frowning slightly and made a move to sit up. Fred placed a hand gently on his chest, preventing him from moving.

"You need to lie down… You lost a lot of blood." Fred's chin wobbled.

"Freddie, I'm ok. Freddie?" Fred had no time to answer as Mrs Weasley entered the room, clad in her dressing gown and yawning. She gave a loud shriek at the sight of George finally awake. 

"Oh my, poor George, thank goodness. You had me so worried!" Her exclamations of joy roused the rest of the household who came rushing downstairs to share in the news of George's recovery. Everybody gathered around the couch, bleary eyed and still wearing pajamas. George patiently answered the half dozen enquiries into how he was feeling, again making light of his injury to brighten the atmosphere. Harry was still looking rather guilty, blaming himself as usual when harm befell somebody that he cared about.

"Right, let's get you to bed dear," Mrs Weasley enjoined.

George attempted to stand up, nearly falling over in the process. This was only prevented by Fred's quick reaction; he grabbed his twin around the waist and held him steady.

"As if you'd be able to stand up yet, you daft dimwit," chided Fred.

"I'm fline," George protested.

"Oh, sure you're _ fine, _ " Fred replied sarcastically. Abandoning the last of his dignity, George clung to his twin for support. It was with great difficulty that Fred, assisted by Bill, managed to get George upstairs, as it was necessary for them to rest after each step. 

George was completely exhausted, as was Fred after the donations of blood and the fear that had seemed to take the breath from his lungs. George was placed gently on his bed, but even the slightest movement caused him to wince in pain. After promising his twin that he would return to him swiftly, Fred followed Bill back downstairs to fetch water and something to relieve his twin’s pain. The others were sitting down now, fingers clasped around mugs of steaming coffee and reminiscing on the events of the battle, still shocked that they had lost Mad Eye. As Fred walked towards the kitchen he was suddenly seized by dizziness and staggered, nearly losing his footing in the process. His upper arms were quickly grasped by Bill and Ron who lowered him into the nearest chair, both exhaling sharply at how pale their brother’s face had quickly become. Mrs Weasley was by his side in an instant, feeling his forehead and clucking at him in concern. “I knew that you’d given too much.”

“I’m fine,” Fred tried to insist, even though he had no more energy left to hide his weakness. 

“Bill. Ron. Help your brother upstairs please. You must be exhausted. I don’t want to see you up until at least the mid afternoon,” she instructed briskly. Grumbling under his breath that he really didn’t need any help, he was escorted upstairs by his brothers, Ginny following behind with the glass of water and medication that Fred had expelled his remaining energy in an attempt to get. 

“Feel a bit better, mate?” Ron asked as he and Bill supported him to the first floor landing. Fred shook his head, putting every effort into not fainting on them. Once they reached the twins’ door on the second floor, Fred insisted that they let him walk into it unaided. He didn’t want George to start fretting that Fred had harmed himself by trying to help him, he knew what George was like. Bill and Ron began their descent back down to the others, as Ginny handed Fred the water and pills for George. Giving him a hug and a half smile, she took her leave and Fred found himself alone. He drew deep lungfuls of air, before turning the door handle of their much chipped door and entered the room, pushing away the sick feeling at the pit of his stomach. George was sitting on the middle of the floor, fingers clawing ineffectively at his clothes. 

"Do you want some help getting undressed, Georgie?"

George didn't answer but simply offered his arms to his twin. This immediately released Fred's remaining pent up emotion, as he set down the water on their bedside  and crossed their small room to sit on the floor and take hold of George, although gently so as not to hurt his still throbbing wound. "You nearly...nearly," Fred couldn't say the word; it was too painful. Tears also made tracks down George's cheeks, as he rubbed Fred's back and pressed his cheek against his soft hair.

"I knew something bad was going to happen," Fred sniffed.

"I'm okay, Freddie. It's all going to be okay now. It doesn't hurt that bad," George soothed, lying through his teeth. 

"You nearly... died. Twice!" Fred exclaimed. "We should have stayed together".

"Twice? That's some poor maths there, Freddie. Merlin that curse was close though". George self consciously touched where only hours earlier he had still possessed an ear.

Fred started, realising that George had no idea that he had very nearly passed from unconsciousness into death on the living room sofa. He explained in a stunted manner, drawing deep breaths in an attempt to regain some semblance of calm. George paled, understanding how close it had been and what Fred must have gone through. Fred had begun to cry again. George rocked him back and forth, making comforting noises.

"Wish it had been...me".

"Either way sucks; we'd both still be upset. I can't stand it when you're upset." He drew Fred's face up to his, so that they were looking each other in the eyes and cupped it gently. Fred moved forward so that their foreheads were resting together and sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry for giving you such a scare."

"Don't be silly Georgie, it wasn't your fault," replied Fred lovingly.

"I know, but I'm still sorry and you look terrible by the way. You shouldn’t have given me so much blood; you must be feeling like shit,” he said, voice suddenly stern, but his eyes radiating a special warmth that was reserved for Fred.

“You sound more and more like Mum these days you know,” Fred attempted a weak smile. “I’ll be fine Georgie boy, it’s you that we should both be worrying about. You would have done exactly the same for me and I was hardly going to let you d… you know, was I now?”

George squeezed him tighter and smiled too. “You’d have some peace and quiet from my nagging.”

Fred hesitated before replying, unsure how to go on, but this needed to be said.

"I love you. You know that, don't you Georgie?"

His twin smiled, "well I had wondered why you enjoy spending so much time with me. Of course I know that. I love you too." He nuzzled their noses together, bringing a smile to Fred's face which extended to his eyes.

"I don't tell you that enough... how much you mean to me Georgie. We joke around so much, I just don't want you to think I take you for granted, that I appreciate you."

George smiled, "Well, people are wrong when they say we're never serious, they just don't see it. I know you do; how upset you are proves that, Freddie. You know I do too?"

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Course I do. You know I think that holy joke wasn't actually that bad. You are a saint...my better half. I love you. I'd go mad without you." Fred wrapped his arms tighter around his twin.

George looked deeply touched. "You're hardly the evil twin mister." He expected Fred to chuckle but instead his face was uncertain.

"Without your restraining influence I'd be horrible; it's always you who prevents our jokes from hurting people," Fred asserted.

"You have been deeply contemplating things haven't you." George stroked Fred's hair gently whilst Fred nodded.

"Not a word," he interjected suddenly grinning. "This would ruin our reputation if people found out we weren't as care-free as we like to maintain."

"Like that time with the Boggart when we had to do some serious damage control? I don't think our class bought the idea that you had hay fever, but you never know, people might like us even more if they discover we're hopelessly soppy gits."

Fred looked sheepish. "I should warn you now; there may have been some tears earlier while you were unconscious. Hay fever again?"

George shook his head. "I'm sure they'd understand why you were so upset."

Fred shook his head slowly, "No, I don't think they really understand us, Georgie, how reliant we are on each other, how much we...love each other. They probably think that, yes, we’re fond of each other, but that overall we’re just two guys who get on together well because of our shared taste for pranks and living life to the full. They could never understand, at least not really." George nodded in agreement, glad that they’d had a heart to heart but discomfited by the thought that there was an important reason why they unconsciously hid the true depth of their relationship. 

With extreme reluctance Fred eased away from George, conscious of what it would look like if someone walked into the room. He pulled a pair of pyjamas from the bag they'd dropped off earlier and helped his twin undress; George wincing with pain at each movement of his head. Fred's face clouded. "I swear next time I see that greasy haired git, only one of us will walk away alive".

George looked distinctly alarmed at the earnest tone of Fred's voice. He trusted his twin with his life, but had no confidence in him not doing something utterly foolish.

"Promise me you won't, ever. We're better than them". George implored, but Fred turned away refusing to meet his twin's eyes.

"They play dirty so should we, we're not exactly going to win this war by being nice". He began to shrug off his own clothes and replace them with pyjamas. It didn’t feel too odd going to bed at dawn, as on more than one occasion they had pulled an all-nighter in an effort to perfect a new invention.

"No, promise me, my ear isn't worth you becoming a murderer for," George was becoming desperate knowing that once Fred had determined upon a course of action he could be a stubborn mule.

"A single hair on your head is worth becoming one for, but fine. I promise, George." George looked relieved as he slid under the covers. Fred remained stood in the middle of the room, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Is it...canIstaywithyoutonight?" Fred rushed.

George was smiling, Fred was adorable when he was embarrassed. "Come again?" he teased.

"Can I stay with you tonight? I just need to be close to you."

George beckoned him over and the two snuggled under the duvet, so closely intertwined that it was difficult to tell where one twin's limbs began and the other's ended.

"Love you, Freddie."

"Love you, Georgie."

In that moment all was calm; there was nothing to hint at the heartbreak that lay ahead.

_ Darkness surrounded me. There were screams and shouts. I had no idea what was going on: each time I tried to escape, the blackness would engulf me again. The screaming sounded closer as I struggled to free myself, and I was drawn to its source. It was George. My twin was lying in a heap on the floor, blood streaming from his head. He was so pale and still. Running to him I cradled his head, crying his name over and over again. Inside of me felt broken, numb... He was gone forever. No! This couldn't be happening. I wanted to scream my agony aloud, but my voice was broken and raw from sobbing. I wanted to die too and be with him... _

Fred woke up with a start, his face wet from a combination of sweat and tears; his body trembling. It had just been a dream. Only a horrible nightmare, he reasoned, feeling his twin's warm body still pressed closely to his side. He focused on George's comforting words from earlier on: he was okay, this was only an hallucination. George was fine. Fred wiped his tears away; whatever he told himself, he knew that the fear would remain. For as long as he loved George so fiercely, for as long as his existence was so wrapped up around his, Fred knew that this would be forever. He looked over his twin's sleeping form, admiring how peaceful he looked with his long black lashes fluttering against his pale cheek. Fred stroked a finger against the smooth skin, tenderness washing over him. Then he felt something familiar flutter within that had never been acknowledged before, and he drew away, confused.

George stirred sleepily, his features stretching into a wide yawn, as he flopped an arm around Fred's waist, holding his twin tightly. Fred held onto the arm firmly, noting how slender it was.  _ So fragile _ , he thought. George's near death experience had shattered Fred's attempt to believe that they could proceed through life without a concern for something going wrong. He resolved that they'd be careful and not take stupid risks from now on. It wasn't worth it. Sleep evading him, he contemplated the many times their tendency for risk taking had gotten them into trouble. He didn't understand how they could have been so foolish. That U-No-Poo banner outside their shop had been hilarious, but what if he'd come back from buying butterbeer to find George dead as a result of his thoughtless joke?  _ All the times that something bad had happened, it had been my fault _ , Fred thought angrily. And today, George might not have been hurt if he'd done a better job protecting him and insisted they entered the battle together. He'd failed, and knew that he'd never forgive himself.

George awoke to find his twin sitting cross legged on his bed, with his back to him. Moving the covers, he kneeled behind him, surprised that Fred hadn't heard the covers rustling. He was never normally one who was often absorbed by his thoughts, being such an extrovert. George knew that Fred was blaming himself for what had happened and felt powerless to persuade him otherwise. The injury he had sustained was nothing compared to seeing the pain which it caused Fred. At that moment, George loved his twin more than ever; he would never find anybody who cared so deeply for his own well being. He was his twin; his best friend and soulmate. Not until they had so nearly been separated had George considered the full extent of his feelings for Fred and was shocked to the core at what he found buried deep within his heart.

"Freddie?" Fred jumped a bit as George’s soft tone penetrated his thoughts.

"Did I wake you?" whispered Fred.

George scooted closer and cuddled him from behind. "No, I missed my hot water bottle,” he said, fondness lacing his voice.

"How you feeling?"

"Still tired. What time is it?"

"Nearly nine, we’ve only been in bed a couple of hours. Mum said that she didn’t want to see me up until the afternoon and you’re going to need a couple of days in bed with the amount of blood that you lost.”

"I'm making a speedy recovery though," George insisted. 

Fred frowned, "Don't be a martyr, nobody will begrudge you a bit of rest, not with the state that you’re in.”

"Oi! I am a fine specimen of the one eared homosapien, thank you very muchly."

"That you are; I hate not being identical anymore though…"

"...Don't even think about it!"

"Wasn't," Fred lied.

"I'll hide your wand if I have to."

"I'd tickle its location out of you. I know all your weak spots!" To prove his point, Fred suddenly turned and shoved his hands gently under George's bed shirt, tickling his sides. George fell back on the bed laughing, tears building and escaping his eyes, as Fred continued his onslaught. He shifted and straddled him to exploit his advantage and finally desisted from tickling. He kissed his twin lightly on the cheek as he regained his breath, and laid back beside his twin as he pulled the covers back over them both.

"Rest, Georgie," he murmured, noticing how merely sitting up had turned George’s skin deathly pale again. 

"Promise me you won't hurt your ear, it's my favourite one", George looked at Fred, anxiety etched into his features.

"What's wrong with the right one?" He replied, mock offended.

"It's not the one you're threatening to cut off," chuckled George. "You are okay, aren't you?" He questioned, noting the pallor of Fred's complexion.

"Yeah," Fred lied again. George didn't believe him for a second; whenever Fred used that word in such an offhand way it was immediately obvious to him that his twin was troubled. Fred, however, despite George's repeated queries, could not bring himself to admit to the nightmare. This has gone far enough, he told himself sternly; not worrying about things had always been his and George's philosophy.  _ Stop being irrational _ ; but he knew that this fear was very rational considering the fact that they’d found themselves in the middle of a war.

While Fred was telling himself to get a grip, he began to notice how George’s eyes were half-lidded, and decided that it was time for his brother to get some rest. George gave a wide yawn and turned on his side to face his twin and demand answers, but lost all train of thought when Fred wrapped him in his arms and pulled him into his side. George’s head landed in the crook of Fred’s neck, with his arm landing across Fred’s torso and a leg draped over his brother’s. George tried to bring his face back to look at Fred, wanting to ask why the sudden closeness, but was stopped by Fred's hand on the back of his head. Fred ran his fingers through the silky, red locks of his brother's hair, needing the comfort of his twin close to him as well as needing to comfort his troubled twin. Within a couple minutes, George was forced back to sleep through sheer bodily exhaustion, although his mind was still trying to process why Fred was lying to him. For Fred, there could be no peaceful rest, as he was disturbed by more than one thought that morning. "It must just be the shock," he tried to ration with himself. “I can’t be…”

It wasn’t until the early evening that Fred finally managed to motivate himself to leave George’s warm body and throw on some clothes. The fear had exhausted him, but as he wasn’t injured, physically at least anyway, he didn’t think that he could easily justify staying in bed. He hastily scrawled a note to George in case he should awake and panic, inserting it carefully into his clenched fingers. He paused at the door to look back at George, who was still fast asleep, chest rising and falling repeatedly. A fierce protectiveness welled up inside Fred as his eyes fell on George’s drawn face and the bandage around his head where an ear had been replaced by torn flesh. He bit his lip and tore his gaze away from his twin’s sleeping form, knowing that the longer he looked upon his injury the more the anger brewing inside his chest would grow. Despite the promise that he’d made to George, Fred seriously doubted his ability to keep it.

Most of the family was sat in the living room when he descended the stairs, with the exception of his Father and Bill who had had to leave for work despite the late night and exhaustion of the battle. Ginny and Mrs Weasley stood up at his entrance, eagerly demanding to know how George was.

“He’s still asleep. He’s woken up though and he was alright then, still in pain but I guess that’s to be expected.” The elder twin slumped heavily into a vacant space on the couch next to Hermione. He turned to her with a tired smile.

“I haven’t had chance to thank you properly Hermione. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking….well George wouldn’t be here,” Fred managed to retain a steady voice, despite the flashes of blood and George’s spasming body leaping in the front of his mind.

“It was nothing Fred, really,” she insisted, flicking her bushy brown hair over one shoulder. “George would do the same for any of us and so would you. He’s going to be okay you know,” she said carefully after a long look at the worry and fear swirling in Fred’s chocolate irises. She laid a hand on his arm and he smiled at her gratefully. 

“I hope so,” he whispered. On the other side of the room, Ron was watching them with narrowed eyes, his bright blue orbs focusing intently on Hermione’s hand still resting on Fred’s arm in comfort. What if Hermione liked his older, more attractive brother rather than him? But he quelled the familiar jealous feelings, as he reminded himself that Fred and Hermione had never spent enough time together for her to rationally have feelings for him and it was clear that Fred was too perturbed by the injury that had befallen George rather than crushing on any girl. 

“Has someone owled Percy?” Fred asked of nobody in particular. 

His Mother nodded, tears suddenly welling up in her eyes. “I’d hoped… that this at least might encourage him to speak to us, but he just sent Errol back with no reply,” she said sadly. Fred shook his head, did Percy really care so little about them anymore that he wasn’t moved at all by news that George had so narrowly escaped death? 

“I’ve had a message from Charlie though, he’ll be here early tomorrow morning. He sends his best wishes for George.” Mrs Weasley added, tapping her pocket where a folded up letter containing Charlie’s scraggly handwriting lay. 

Giving up on trying to sit still he walked into the kitchen to occupy himself with some dishes that had been left on the side, half of him wanting to return to sit by George’s side but the other part needing a break from the conflicting emotions that plagued him whenever he looked at him. He hated feeling so out of character, but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t hide his worry; for once in his life Fred Weasley could not fight the darkness of life with a joke. 

The others listened to the clattering of the dishes in the kitchen, all concerned that Fred’s expressionless face was concealing pain. “He’s being so strong,” Ginny whispered. “Merlin knows this must be hell for him. 

Like a lost spirit Fred wandered the Burrow until his Father and Bill returned home, shrugging off their overcoats and collapsing into armchairs. Fred paused in his fiftieth lap of the Burrow and garden to listen to his Father’s news from the ministry.

“Ministry is on high alert for an attack, the Aurors think that they’ve got a potential lead on some of the death eaters, but the trail will probably run cold as usual no doubt.”

Fred continued his wandering, his feet leading him back up the stairs to stop outside the familiar door marked with paint and covered in pictures. He’d been checking on George every 15 minutes, but he’d been too restless to remain by his side for long. Now exhausted from his incessant walking, he collapsed into a chair that he had drawn up by his twin’s bed. He reached out a tentative hand to gently swipe away the hair that was peeking out underneath George’s bandage from his forehead. He picked George’s clammy hand up from the coverlet and squeezed it warmly. He wouldn’t leave his side again unless it was on an errand for him; Fred knew that he couldn’t run from this. Couldn’t run from that split second memory of thinking that he had lost his twin, that second of feeling more empty than he had ever done in his life. He knew that he’d carry that feeling with him forever.

The next morning brought Charlie crashing loudly into their room, jerking Fred awake. He’d dozed off in the chair, George’s hand still clasped in his. Somebody had tucked a striped quilt around him and left some water in a jug on the bedside table.

Fred rubbed his sleep filled eyes and stretched before turning to his brother who was sweating heavily from his long travel and panting in his rush to see his brother.

“How’s he doin?” He demanded of Fred, sweeping his long hair up into a bun on the back of his head. 

“He hasn’t woken up in 24 hours,” Fred replied, with slumped shoulders. Charlie drew the bedroom’s second chair up next to him and clapped his brother warmly on the shoulder.

“I wouldn’t think too much of that bro, his body needs time to recover that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right,” Fred nodded, as he leant in close to George and checked underneath the bandages. To his dismay the wound was oozing fresh bright scarlet blood.

“Muuuuum!!!”

Neither Fred nor their Mother was able to stop this fresh bout of bleeding for half an hour. Each minute that went by brought agony to Fred as he watched more of his twin’s precious blood sliding down his neck, but eventually it had subsided. Their Mother had wrapped fresh bandages around his head and with a tearful gaze had instructed Fred to call her again at the slightest sign of more bleeding. Then she had quickly backed out of the room, struggling with the fresh sight of yet another of her children injured in the cause against Voldemort. 

Fred kept his bedside vigil until early afternoon, refusing his family’s offers to take over for a bit to allow him to get some proper rest and a much needed shower. All morning he’d been in the hope that George would wake up soon, but as the hours had slipped away he became less and less sure that Charlie was right. 

“Freddie.” Fred returned sharply from the doze that he’d fallen into at the sound of his twin’s voice, a smile creeping up to spread throughout his face. 

“Bloody hell you look even worse than before!” George gasped, eyes mooning at his twin’s tired state. 

“But you look better Georgie, much better,” Fred pronounced happily. “How’s the pain?”

George winced, strongly motivated to lie rather than cause Fred anymore pain, but he knew that it would be a pointless endeavour. Fred would be able to see right through him. “Tis bad, feels like my whole head is on fire and…”

“And what Georgie?” The smile on Fred’s face faltered as quickly as it had come.

“I can’t hear anything in this ear,” he gestured to the side of his head that was covered in layers of gauze and cloth. “It’s even a bit fuzzy in t’other one, but I can read your lips like a book.” Fred slid from the chair next to George in an instant, slipping his slender arms around George’s midsection and kissing his forehead with a soft click of flesh on flesh. 

“We can hope that, in time, it’ll come back. it might not be permanent,” Fred soothed.

“Yeah,” George whispered, holding onto the hands that were clasped around him, but his voice sounded resigned to the loss of half of his hearing, rather than hopeful that it would return. “How long was I asleep for?” He asked groggily, elegant fingers reaching up to rub at his temple. 

“Over 24 hours,” Fred tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, but it was no use; the penetrating glance that George sent his way told him that. 

“Mum must have given me enough medication for a Hungarian Horntail!”

Fred chuckled in appreciation of his brother’s joke, but the sound that emerged from the back of his throat was much weaker than the usual raucous guffaw that he gave when George had said something particularly witty. He adjusted the duvet again even though it really didn’t need doing and went to do the same for the pillows, but his hand was caught by George and squeezed reassuringly.

“I’m okay Freddie, I’m not going to leave you...I promise,” George reached up to clasp the back of Fred’s neck gently so that he could pull his head to his. He could feel his twin’s breath on his cheek, escaping from his mouth in sharp puffs of air. 

“I know, I just felt...so helpless to help you. I didn’t know what to do with myself at all without you,” he confessed. George didn’t have to use too much of his creative imagination to envisage Fred sorrowfully wandering the burrow like a lost Dog. 

“But now that you’re awake, I can be of some use,” Fred’s tone immediately brightened and he gave his twin a genuine smile. “Can I get you anything? Are you hungry at all? Perhaps some soup?” Fred reeled off a string of questions, as he adjusted the covers and plumped up George’s pillows.

“Some soup would be nice as long as you don’t mind twinnie,” George smiled gratefully at him. 

“Oh of course I mind immensely, go and get itself you great lazy prat,” Fred returned sarcastically shaking his head at him in fond exasperation. “I won’t be long.”

Fred marched straight to the kitchen, summoning bowls, knifes and a chopping board from the cupboards with a flick of his wand. Soon the pleasant smell of vegetable soup filled the kitchen, as Fred chopped up several carrots to add to the bubbling mixture. He tasted a small mouthful to check if it was well seasoned enough as Mrs Weasley entered with a tray of coffee mugs and stopped short at the sight of Fred in front of the stove. 

“Fred! What are you doing? What on earth is that for? You’re not planning a prank?” She fretted, panic rapidly rising, as the day before there had been no prank, not even a joke and the Weasley family and indeed anybody who knew the Weasley twins had soon learnt that a day without a well executed joke meant that the pair were planning something  _ big. _

Mrs Weasley’s panicked voice had drawn the attention of the others, except Ron who had gone to feed his owl, and they crowded into the small kitchen to see what the commotion was about. 

“You’re cooking, Fred?” Bill’s tone was full of disbelief as he watched his younger brother ladling a generous helping into a bowl.

“What? It’s exactly like Potions. It’s not that hard.” Fred said a little smugly, always pleased when either he or George was able to surprise someone. Without another word he picked the bowl up from the counter and exited the room, leaving his family staring after him. He was greeted with a warm smile from his twin as he entered their room which was quickly returned with fondness.

“Eat it all up now, Mister,” Fred instructed as he placed the bowl in his lap. “Carefully though, it’s still a bit hot.”

“Mmmmmm!” George gave a noise of enjoyment as the creamy substance hit the back of his throat. “It’s really good, thank you Freddie.”

“Glad to hear it. The others looked flabbergasted when they walked in and saw me making it.”

“Really? How else did they think we eat?” George shook his head in amusement and laughed, eagerly dipping his spoon back in for more. Merlin, he was famished. “Have you had lunch Freddie?”

“Nah, I wasn’t hungry.”

“Well get some of this,” George ordered him.

“No, I made that for you,” Fred shook his head, taking away the now empty bowl.

“Well, _ I  _ want you to have some Forge.” Fred agreed without further argument, knowing that it would be futile, and knowing that the soup was rather good, if he did say so himself. 

Spirits much brighter now that George was awake and even eating, he headed back down to the kitchen, stopping by the door with folded arms when he saw who was helping themselves to George’s soup. Ron was licking his lips as he served himself a very generous quantity of Fred’s concoction. He looked up and saw his brother standing there with raised eyebrows. He should have known. No food was safe for longer than ten minutes with Ron in the house.

“Want some of this ‘red?” His words were barely understandable with his mouth so full. “This is bloody delicious, Mum has really outdone herself this time.”

“Actually I made that...”

Ron paused with his spoon raised halfway to his mouth, spilling some down the front of his jumper. His face paled and he looked down at his bowl as if he’d been ingesting toxic waste. With a yelp he dropped the bowl where it smashed against the tiles, splashing soup everywhere. Ron clutched his throat in horror and glared at Fred. 

“What’s in this?” He stammered.

Even though he was still disturbed by what had happened to George, the jokester in him couldn’t bear to miss an opportunity as good as this, handed to him as it was on a silver platter.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He swivelled on his heel and exited the kitchen, suppressing a giggle. He cast a look back over his shoulder to see Ron at the kitchen sink swirling his mouth out with water and rushed back upstairs to share the laugh with his twin that they both badly needed. 

Trying to get George to stay in bed was like teaching a penguin to fly- a futile task. The Weasley twins had never been ones to lie around in bed, they were always full of an energy and enthusiasm that amazed their peers. Fred had tried his best to entertain his increasingly grouchy twin, reading aloud from one of their favourite novels and reeling off knock knock jokes until his voice was hoarse. George had always been a stubborn git when he was ill, pigs would fly before his twin would admit that he needed caring for. 

“When are you going to allow me to leave this fucking bed,” George demanded for the fifth time that day.

“When you feel less dizzy,” Fred responded for the fifth time, his voice authoritative. 

“I’m fine, Freddie, some fresh air will do me good,” his twin tried. 

Fred couldn’t help but smile at him. Merlin, George was adorable when he was being whiny.  _ Adorable? Since when did I start thinking about my twin as adorable? _

“You’re worse than Mum, you are,” George finally grumbled, realising that Fred was not going to be budged on this issue until he was well enough. “It’s only a bloody ear, I don’t see why everybody’s making such a fuss of me.”

“Exactly! It's a BLOODY ear! Quite literally!” Fred glared at him.

George looked up at him apologetically, “I’m being a git, I’m sorry. I am really grateful that you’re looking after me, Freddie, truly. I know I’m not the easiest of patients,“ he chuckled, eyelids fluttering half closed as he looked down at the comforter and plucked at the stitching.

“You can say that again,” his twin grumbled, but mollified. “It won’t be long now,” he added more gently, ruffling his brothers hair. “You should be okay for Harry’s birthday celebrations tomorrow, Mum’s making him a giant snitch cake and I’ve been thinking that we could give him this.” He crouched down to retrieve a truly enormous box of the latest Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes merchandise. The box was bright orange and closed with purple ribbon, their shop’s logo emblazoned on the front. 

“Yeah, that would be nice. I’m sure Harry will find a use for the decoy detonators!” 

“Speaking of Harry, every time I speak to him he looks really guilty,” Fred mused. “Not that he shouldn’t be a  _ little  _ guilty of course. You have sacrificed your ear for the rest of your life and my nerves are in shreds.” At Fred’s comment George gave him a tender smile, one of the kinds of smiles that he only ever directed at his twin and rubbed his thumb over the palm of his hand soothingly, feeling highly guilty himself at what Fred had been put through these last few days.

“Apparently Harry tried to do a runner, you know.” George reflected, “Ron told me when he came up to visit earlier, when you were squeezing me some orange juice.” 

Fred’s eyes widened and he muttered several expletives under his breath. He could understand why Harry had done it, but he couldn’t help feel angry that after all they had done to ensure that he reached the Burrow safely, he would act so recklessly. 

“I’ll be back in a min Porgie, your glass is nearly empty and it’s very important that you stay hydrated,” Fred informed him, wiping his hands on his jeans and rising to his feet. But before he could leave the room, their bedroom door was pushed ajar and the boy who lived himself could be seen standing in the doorway.

“Harry!” Fred greeted him in a friendly tone, hoping that his lurking sense of resentment wasn’t detectable to the other boy. 

“Can I come in for a minute?”

The twins exchanged a quick glance, curious over the nervousness that was apparent in Harry’s voice. Fred waved him over and sat back down at George’s side, smoothing out the covers and gazing up at Harry expectantly. Being so good at reading people’s emotions, it had been immediately clear to the twins as soon as Harry had entered the room that he had something to say beyond an enquiry into how George was doing.

“Are you feeling any better?” He began anyway.

George smiled lazily and flicked a piece of hair that had fallen in Fred’s face away. “Much better after all the effort that this one’s been putting in to nurse me back to health.”

“What a lovely patient you are,” Fred cooed back at him.

“Oh really? I don’t believe that was how you felt earlier.” They both burst out laughing, leaving Harry feeling slightly confused as he watched one of their impossibly intricate private battles of wit unfold before him.

“A lovely-”

“arse-”

“-Of a patient.”

**“** Anyway,” George said, still smiling. “You look like you wanted to say something, Harry.” 

Harry nodded, grateful that George had made it easy for him, feeling awkward enough as it was already. “Yeah! I wanted to thank you both, especially you, George, for risking your lives for me like that. I’m really sorry about your ear.”

“It’s the least that we could do, Harry-”

“Don’t mention it-”

“And besides it’ll be a great story for parties-”

“Yeah, his holiness will land us all the girls!” Fred finished, grinning at his twin again and knowing full well that despite his words their interest in dating matched their interest in academia.

Harry smiled, the twins were too good looking for girls to be put off by George’s missing ear. “There was also something that I wanted to ask you both. Ron, Hermione, and I need your help. Dumbledore left us a mission, a really important one. And if we’re to have any chance of beating Voldemort, then it’s really important that we start on it as soon as possible. But we need to make sure that the Death Eaters don’t realise that Ron is with me; Merlin knows what they would do to the rest of you if they found out. So, Hermione has an idea to transfigure the ghoul in your attic into Ron and pretend that he’s ill with Spattergroit in case anybody shows up wanting to know why he’s not gone back to school. The issue is that it’s really complicated magic and none of us, not even Hermione know how to make a convincing job of it. We thought that, maybe, you guys would be the best ones for the job considering how good you are with spells and charms.” Finishing his story, Harry looked from one grinning twin to the other hopefully.

“We knew that you three must be up to something,” Fred raised an eyebrow. “No wonder Mum was trying to keep you all busy cleaning the Burrow. At least she didn’t ask me to help, I’ve had my work cut out here,” he said, throwing a smirk in George’s direction. 

“Of course we’ll help,” George answered for the both of them. “We’ll do it tomorrow as soon as this prat finally lets me leave this damn bed.”

“IF you are even fine by tomorrow,” Fred retorted with a pointed glance at his bandages. George folded his arms across his chest and gave an exaggerated huff, rolling his eyes theatrically before returning his gaze to Harry. 

“So, what is this mission that Dumbledore left you?” Fred asked, curiosity rolling off him in waves. How could Dumbledore have expected Harry to fight this fight with only his best friends to accompany him?

Harry looked at them apologetically before answering. “I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.” Seeing Fred about to argue with him, he continued hastily, backing towards the door. “Please trust me, it’s for the best that as few people as possible know about it. I didn’t even want your brother and Hermione to come with me at first until they insisted. I know it’s a bit cheeky of me to ask for your help without telling you why, but that’s the way that it’s got to be.”

The twins exchanged a disappointed look. Harry had met them even before Ron all those years ago on the platform when they’d offered to help him with his trunk and yet he didn’t trust them enough. Nobody seemed to. Nobody told them anything. Even though they had been in the Order for a little over a year now, they still didn’t feel like proper members, still didn’t feel like they were taken seriously by anybody apart from each other. But at least Harry thought enough of their abilities to come to them for their help, few other people would, despite all of their skills. 

“We understand. Just remember that you’re not alone, Harry. You’ve got so many people willing to help you, even when there’s such a high cost.” The twins eyes flickered to each other, brown meeting brown; they’d had a taste of that price and both intensely feared that someday that would taste all of it. Despite Harry’s presence, George couldn’t help but reach up to lay a hand on Fred’s shoulder, sensing that his twin needed that small physical connection in that moment as much as he did. 

“Even when the high cost is your life?”

Bingo. Their fears tasted much worse coming out of someone else's mouth so bluntly. They both flinched, but luckily Harry didn’t notice. This wasn’t something that they could share with anyone, they just wouldn’t understand.

“Yes. Even then.” Fred’s voice was more solemn than Harry had ever heard before, and it was only then that he realised how much he had underestimated them. 

“We’re sorry about Hedwig Harry, she was a beautiful owl,” George gave Harry a sad smile. Fred couldn’t help but look at George with tenderness; the instinctual kindness that his twin possessed was one of the reasons that Fred loved him so much. 

“Thank you, guys, again. If you ever need any more financial backing with your shop, you know where to find me,” Harry smiled to them both as he headed towards the door.

“ _ You _ don’t have to buy our help, Harry-” Fred began.

“Yeah, It’s only Ron that we charge.” Harry smiled to himself as he left them alone together, knowing that the twins could be counted upon to keep everybody’s spirits up while he was away was a comforting thought indeed.

It was with relief on the morning of Harry’s birthday that George stood in the middle of their room, stretching out his stiff muscles before eagerly accepting Fred’s offer of a backrub. Fred crossed the room to stand behind his twin, placing his hands on either of George's shoulders before kneading them gently. George closed his eyes and leaned into the pressure; the feel of Fred’s fingers sliding over his aching body was relief of the purest kind. Opening his eyes, he caught sight of Fred’s lazy smirk in the mirror at the sound of his appreciation of his twin's skill.

“Ooooooh! Right there, Freddie.” He whined, tilting his head back and leaning into Fred's hands to add pressure on a particularly tense area.

“Take it easy there, mate, or Mum’s gonna wonder what we’re doing in here,” Fred joked, instantly wondering whether he had gone too far. But George laughed loudly and turned to clap him on the shoulder; eyes sparkling with mischief as he winked at him and headed for the door. 

The sound of commotion coming from the kitchen as they descended the narrow stairway told them that their Mother had already starting preparing for Harry’s birthday celebration. The twins offered to help their rather flustered Mother decorate the garden, an offer which she quickly accepted once she had finished fussing over George. They stepped out into the garden where their Father had set up a long trestle table to accommodate all of the guests, George pausing before they reached it to tilt his face up towards the warm summer sun, feeling its energising rays hit his skin as he stretched out his arms and struck a victory pose. 

“Freedom!!!!!“ He declared dramatically with a sly glance at his twin. Fred folded his arms and gazed back at him, amused.

“You know, Georgie, I think you’re looking a little peaky… I think you’d better go back to bed,” Fred suggested, grinning. George backed away from him and brandished his wand in such an exuberant manner that he had his twin clutching his side and laughing in a way that he had not done for days since George had been injured. 

“Seriously though: take it easy, okay? Let’s gets these lanterns done.” 

Together they enchanted a dozen Chinese lanterns emblazoned with large ‘17’s’ to suspend themselves mid-air.  _ As soon as the sun set later, _ they thought,  _ the effect would be beautiful _ . Once they were finished, they drudged back upstairs so that Fred could wrap Harry’s present and George could  lie down for half an hour. As loathe as he was to admit it, the small exertion of the morning had been enough to send queasiness into the pit of his stomach. Ron poked his head in to see what they were up to and goggled at the size of the box that Fred was wrapping.

“You’re giving Harry all that? You wouldn’t even give me a discount and I’m your brother!”

“Learn to knock, Ron, will you? You don’t know what George and I could be doing in here.” He smirked evilly at how quickly Ron’s expression turned from indignation to trepidation at the crazy experiments the twins got up to. 

“And are you forgetting what we gave you when we visited you in the Hospital Wing on your last birthday?” George demanded, half sitting up.

“Yeah...it was generous,” he admitted sheepishly. He made himself comfortable on a chair at the end of George’s bed and asked if they fancied a few rounds of exploding snap. The twins readily agreed, pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t often that Ron actively sought their company, but the way that their little brother kept glancing at George’s bandage revealed that even ‘emotional range of a teaspoon, Ron’ had been affected by George’s close brush with death. Harry joined them after their second round that saw George take the lead and the four boys continued to play until Mrs Weasley called up to them to get ready for Harry’s birthday celebration. 

Dressed in matching shirts of deep Burgundy, Fred and George waited at the end of the lane to guide the various Order members and friends that were attending Harry’s party to the correct location, greeting them and joking to bring a smile to their face before they'd let them enter. No reason for Harry's birthday to be so glum, they reasoned. The large figure of Hagrid appeared from around the corner and beamed when he saw them.

“Alright you two? Been getting into more trouble than usual, I see,” he said indicating to George’s bandaged head.

“The Weasley Twins and trouble? Whatever could have given you the impression that those two things go together, Hagrid?” Fred smiled up at him. There were few people that the twins had to look up at, but the ten foot half giant was one of them. Hagrid chuckled warmly and leant down to clap Fred on the shoulder. He did it so vigorously that Fred would have been knocked to the ground had it not been for George’s quick thinking. Fred couldn’t help but smile at the warm feel of George’s arms around his waist. He knew that his twin would always be there to catch him should he fall.

_ But would he be able to catch George?  _ The vicious voice in the back of his mind suggested. No matter what he wished were true, Fred knew that even being twins would not protect them against the coming war. But they sure as hell were going to try, Fred swore to himself, resting his own arm around his twin’s waist in a protective gesture. George’s eyes immediately flickered to his with concern, understanding without the need of verbal communication the feelings and fears that had been intensified by his injury, before painting on a smile and waving Hagrid in the direction of the party.

Having greeted all of the guests, Fred moved to head back to the garden and join the party, but George stopped him with a gentle hand to the centre of his chest and pulled him in close for the hug that Fred clearly needed. They held each other for a long moment and eventually parted, small smiles on both of their lips. Twilight had fallen, the lanterns that the twins had enchanted casting a luminescent glow over the tables of family and friends, who were eagerly handing Harry present after present. Harry grinned appreciatively when the nearest twin heaved at him the huge, colorful box of their merchandise. He wasted no time in prising off the lid to reveal an assortment of puking pastilles, decoy detonators, shield hats and Instant Darkness Powder; items which the twins hoped would aid the trio on whatever their mission was. 

Fred pulled out one of the two remaining seats at the end of the long table, motioning George to sit down before taking the other. 

“It’s great to see you up and about, George!” Hermione smiled at him kindly from her seat across from them.

“Thanks! It was driving me crazy being cooped up in that room; although the service was pretty good,” he added with a wink at his twin. 

To a warm chorus of ‘Happy Birthday Harry’, the twins set off a colorful array of their Whizzbangs. They both smiled to see the boy who lived enjoying himself, knowing that there would be little enjoyment to be had in the fulfillment of the awful burden that had been placed on his slight shoulders. 

A little before midnight, Mrs Weasley urged everyone to go to bed, reminding them that she wanted to see them all up bright and early the next morning to prepare for Bill and Fleur’s wedding that would be held in the afternoon. 

“Umbridge will smash her cat plates before I let you help in your condition Georgie,” Fred frowned at his Mother, who thankfully had her back turned to him and didn’t see the disappointment cast over her son’s features. 

George moved to follow the others inside, but before he could take a full step Fred caught hold of his hand.

“Let’s stay out a little longer, the fresh air is doing you good,” Fred said as he observed the color that was returning to George’s cheeks. “And it’s such a clear night. Look at all the stars you can see.” George lifted his gaze and, sure enough, the sky was brilliantly clear with the entire sky filled with stars just begging to be admired.

George nodded without hesitation and followed his twin to a secluded part of the garden. There, they lay side by side, bodies brushing against the others and gazing up at the many pinpricks of light dotting the midnight sky. 

“It makes you realise just how small we really are,” Fred whispered, turning his head to observe the stars through George’s warm eyes. 

“Yeah,” George breathed, also turning his head to gaze at his twin for a brief moment, trying to restrain the blush that wanted to cover his cheeks when he saw how tenderly Fred was gazing at him. 

“How rare and beautiful it is that we even exist at all,” Fred finished his thought.

“How is it that you say the most wonderful things?” George asked with awe as he looked back to his twin, this time unable to tear his gaze away from the person that he loved so deeply. 

“Because I have you,” Fred smiled.

“And you'll always have me,” George added. Simultaneously, the twins reached to wrap their long, elegant fingers around their twins’, palms aligned and thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the back of each other’s hands. It was a precious moment of quiet and reflection, as they inhaled lungfuls of the sweet summer air. Who knew when this kind of peace would return to their world? 

 

 

 

 

  
  


 

 


	7. Wedding Crashers

_Darkness surrounded me, there were screams and shouts. I had no idea what was going on, each time I tried to escape the blackness would engulf me again. The screaming sounded closer and I was drawn to its source. It was George. My twin was lying in a heap on the floor, blood streaming from his head. He was so pale and still. Running to him I cradled his head, crying his name over and over again. Inside of me felt broken, numb... He was gone forever. No! This couldn't be happening. I wanted to scream my agony aloud, but my voice was broken and raw from sobbing. I wanted to die._

Fred woke up with a start, his face wet and his body trembling. It had just been a dream, only a horrible nightmare he reasoned, feeling his twin's warm body still pressed closely to his side. He focused on George's comforting words from earlier on, he was okay; this was only an hallucination. George was fine. Fred wiped his tears away, whatever he told himself, he knew that the fear would remain. For as long as he loved George so fiercely, for as long as his existence was so wrapped up around his. Fred knew that this would be forever. He looked over at his twin's sleeping form, admiring how peaceful he looked with his long black lashes fluttering against his pale cheek. Fred stroked a finger against the smooth skin, tenderness washing over him. Then he felt something that had never been acknowledged before and he drew away confused.

George stirred sleepily, his features stretching into a wide yawn, as he flopped an arm around Fred's waist, holding his twin tightly. Fred held onto the arm firmly, noting how slender it was, so fragile he thought. George's near death experience had shattered Fred's illusions of how they could proceed through life without a concern for something going wrong. He resolved that from now on they'd be careful and not take stupid risks. It wasn't worth it. Sleep evading him, he contemplated the many times their tendency for risk taking had gotten them into trouble. He didn't understand how they could have been so foolish. That U-No-Poo banner outside their shop had been hilarious, but what if he'd come back from buying butterbeer to find George dead as a result of his thoughtless joke. All the times something bad had happened it had been his fault, Fred thought angrily. And today, George might not have been hurt if he'd done a better job protecting him and insisted they entered the battle together. He'd failed and knew that he'd never forgive himself.

George awoke to find his twin sitting cross legged on his bed, with his back to him. Moving the covers he kneeled behind him, surprised that Fred hadn't heard the covers rustling. He was never normally one who was often absorbed by his thoughts, being such an extrovert. George knew that Fred was blaming himself for what had happened and felt powerless to persuade him otherwise. The injury he had sustained was nothing compared to seeing the pain which it had caused Fred. At that moment George loved his twin more than ever; he would never find anybody who cared so deeply for his well being. He was his twin, his best friend and soul mate. Not until they had so nearly been separated had George considered the full extent of his feelings for Fred and was shocked to the core at what he found buried deep within his heart.

"Freddie?"

"Did I wake you", whispered Fred.

George scooted closer and cuddled him from behind. "No, though I missed my hot water bottle."

"How you feeling".

"Still tired, what time is it?"

"Nearly nine, Mum said we'd start getting ready for the wedding at eleven. Talk about bad timing, you need bed rest."

"Well they have been planning it for months and anyway I've made a speedy recovery".

Fred frowned, "Don't be a martyr, Bill and Fleur won't mind if you don't go, not with the state you're in".

"Oi, I am a fine specimen of the one eared homosapien thank you very muchly."

"That you are; I hate not being identical anymore though".

"Don't even think about it!"

"Wasn't", Fred lied.

"I'll hide your wand if I have to"

"I'd tickle its location out of you, I know all your weak spots." To prove his point Fred suddenly turned and shoving his hands under George's bed shirt, tickled his side's. George fell back on the bed laughing tears escaping his eyes, as Fred continued his onslaught. He straddled him to exploit his advantage and finally desisted from tickling; he kissed his twin lightly on the cheek and pulled the covers back over them both.

"Rest Georgie", he murmured.

"Promise me you won't hurt your ear, it's my favourite one", George looked at Fred anxiously.

"What's wrong with the right," he replied mock offended.

"It's not the one you're threatening to cut off", chuckled George. "You are okay aren't you?" he questioned, noting the pallor of Fred's complexion.

"Yeah", Fred lied again. George didn't believe him for a second; whenever Fred used that word in such an offhand way it was immediately obvious to him that his twin was troubled. Fred however, despite George's repeated queries could not bring himself to admit to the nightmare. This has gone far enough, he told himself sternly; not worrying about things had always been his and George's philosophy. Stop being irrational; but he knew that this fear was very rational. George was forced back to sleep through sheer bodily exhaustion, although his mind was still trying to process why Fred was lying to him. For Fred, there could be no peaceful rest, as he was disturbed by more than one thought that morning. "It must just be the shock", he thought.

In what felt barely moments later after falling asleep, George was gently roused by Fred. He stirred sleepily, blinking as the bright light from the open curtain sent sharp pains shooting through his head to intersperse with the dull throbbing that had persisted since he'd been injured. He quickly shielded his eyes against the glare, trying to dilute the burning pain. Fred immediately dashed across the room to yank the curtains shut again.

"God, sorry Georgie", he sputtered.

"It's fine. Bloody hell, I wasn't expecting light to hurt," he said rubbing his temples.

"I hope your eyesight hasn't been damaged, you never know what dark magic can do", said Fred clearly perturbed.

"Well that's just great, blind and I can only half hear" George groaned. "Fat lot of good I'm going to be".

Fred's eyes widened, "What do you mean you can only half hear?"

"What do you think? I can't hear anything out of this hole" he snapped, pointing to his bandaged wound irritably. Fred's expression turned to one of hurt.

"Sorry Freddie, I didn't mean to snap. It's just I can see myself becoming a burden".

"Don't apologise, I'd be a grumpy git too" he ruffled George's hair lightly. "You'll never be a burden to me, I'd be your eyes and ears if I needed to".

George sat up slowly, his muscles still felt weak and useless, but he was stubbornly determined to get up and act as if nothing had happened for Fred's sake. Looking around properly he noticed that Fred was already dressed in his outfit for the wedding, which included a waistcoat of his favourite colour: canary yellow. Fred had thoughtfully laid out his own clothes on top of the chest of drawers. "You got dressed quietly for once", George smiled.

He shook his head laughing. "I managed to bump into every piece of furniture in here, sleeping beauty."

"Clutz", George said evidently amused.

Fred approached examining him, relieved to see that some colour had returned to his twin's cheeks. "At least you look less vampiric now".

"Thanks for the donation. I just hope that having your blood running through my veins doesn't make me as crazy as you", George replied archly.

"You are a cheeky bastard. I'd wait for you Georgie, but Mum's running around panicking about absolutely everything, so I'd better go and help before she completely loses it. I'll leave you some coffee on the side mate", he added as he left to go downstairs.

"Make sure it's out of Rons' reach then," he called after him chuckling. Ron was well known for scavenging on any beverage or food he found. When they had been children, Ron had frequently stolen the twin's sweets; receiving an acid pop from Fred had not taught him the intended lesson. With great difficulty George heaved himself out of bed, his body strangely heavy. As soon as he got to his feet the room spun and he staggered towards the bathroom, just about managing to maintain his balance. He preceded towards the mirror, dismayed by how he looked completely odd with only one ear; it was going to look awful when the bandage came off. People were going to stare, nobody was going to want to go out with him. He'd never had a girlfriend and didn't think missing an ear was going to improve his prospects. It's just an ear; don't be so vain he thought, but then the words disfigured and deformed entered his mind. The thought of Mad Eye and the many body parts he'd lost filled him with shame for what he considered merely vanity, but George knew that he was not going to wear this battle scar with pride.

He splashed cold water over his skin, enjoying the refreshing sensation that made him feel more alert. However, it was a struggle to fasten the buttons on his waistcoat of deep purple with fingers that were still numb and shaking. Simply getting dressed had been an exhausting exercise and he had to take several deep breaths before proceeding to fetch his toothbrush. Let's see if I can manage that, he thought dryly. Quite fancying a caffeine boost he proceeded carefully downstairs, still brushing his teeth. He stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, with the biggest smirk on his face at the sight presented before him. His little sister and the boy who lived were snogging. George snuck towards the counter, despite the fact that for one of his height and hair colour it was a challenge to sneak anywhere; but Ginny and Harry were so absorbed in one another that they hadn't noticed his entrance. He picked his mug off the side and thought that his ear hole would be an excellent place to temporarily store his toothbrush; at least the injury had plenty of comic value. Harry and Ginny broke from their kiss, embarrassed to find George staring at them from across the kitchen.

"Moooorning", he broke into the awkward silence which had suddenly filled the kitchen in a deep voice; delighted at the look of shock and discomfort on Harry's face. He gave them the famous Weasley twin wink as Ginny left the room with an angry glance in his direction. Harry remained awkwardly waiting for George to start yelling at him for messing with his little sister, but instead he got the hurt my little sister Harry and you won't be the boy who lived anymore look. Harry backed away, as George suppressed a smile. Fred was going to be gutted he'd missed this. He gulped the remainder of his coffee and removed his toothbrush chuckling. He could make the most of this injury, Fred was right, there was a whole world of ear related humour.

His Mother bustled into the kitchen suddenly, brandishing a long list of things to do. She spotted George daring to remain idle and immediately assigned him a million things to do. "Mum, Mum wait. You want me to put the ribbons where?" He laughed at his Mother getting herself so muddled up. She took in his bandaged head properly and gasped. "Oh sorry George dear, of course you don't need to do anything".

"No, Mum I want to help," he insisted.

"Oh okay then, there is a lot to do, all hands on deck eh. You can help set the tent up then; Fred's helping with that too." Anything that his twin was doing was good enough for George. He headed outside spotting Fred easily with his bright yellow, though Fred didn't look so pleased to see him.

"George? What are you doing? You shouldn't be helping! I don't believe Mum", he exclaimed.

"I said I'd help, sitting around is boring. Besides Freddie, I don't think standing here and pointing my wand should be too taxing."

"Alright then but if I see you looking at all ill, you're going back inside", Fred declared in a tone which conveyed that he could not be budged.

"Yes Mum," George smirked. The corners of Fred's mouth twitched as he took George's elbow and led him over to where their Father was deciding on the best way of putting the marquee up. Fred was still looking at him with concern; George appreciated this but he wasn't that weak and wished that his twin would stop worrying.

He nudged Fred with his elbow drawing him aside. "You'll never guess who I walked in on snogging". Fred looked shocked.

"So they've admitted they've got feelings for each other", Fred shook his head. "Took them long enough".

George laughed. "Not Ron and Hermione; Harry and our little sister. I gave them my sexy morning, but they didn't seem to find the situation amusing. They probably thought I was Ron."

Fred turned to observe their younger brother, who was busying himself with a stack of chairs. "Yeah, I don't think he'd be too impressed. He'll think Harry's messing her about, after he broke things off."

"It's not really like Gin needs her brothers interfering in her love life; I don't get why Ron can't see that."

"Then she'll appreciate that we at least don't interfere too much," Fred said.

Ron walked over to them, glad to see the improvement in George's condition. He offered him a hug, which was an unusual occurrence as Ron was never usually affectionate. "Where's my hug?" Fred asked.

"You'll have to lose an ear Freddie", he teased Ron who looked slightly irked. The twins could never help themselves when it came to mocking ickle Ronniekins.

The three Weasley brothers raised their wands to raise the Marquee, when George noticed a man with shoulder length brown hair approaching the entrance to the Burrow. "What's the Minister of Magic doing here?" George asked incredulously. Everyone turned, surprised to see the unexpected visitor. Nobody had noticed the dark clouds rolling up behind them, which in future months would be viewed as foreshadowing the dark days to come. Scrimgeour had come to visit the trio; turning to exchange confused looks with the twin's, Ron left to join Harry and Hermione inside.

"Wonder what that's all about," Fred mused.

"Can't be anything good. You know with Scrimgeour as Minister it's unlikely that Voldemort will be able to seize control at the ministry. He's made of tougher stuff than Fudge was."

Fred looked aghast. "George! You shouldn't be saying his name like that". He looked widely over his shoulder as if expecting the dark Lord to suddenly appear and punish George for his presumption. George however smiled.

"I think I may be the bolder twin after all Fred. I wouldn't have expected you of all people to fear a name."

Fred returned the smile. "The name's probably jinxed you prat. Who are you and what have you done with my twin? It's normally you reigning me in!" Everyone knew that George was the more naturally cautious of the two; the one who on many occasions had prevented the twin's from getting into serious trouble.

"Well Freddie, I thought I'd try your way of going about things for a change," George smirked.

"Oh. And what way would that be then?" George muttered wingardeum leviosa, raising a side of the marquee and turned to his twin sniggering.

"Like a bull in a China shop, my oh so not subtle twin."

George ducked the pile of bunting which was thrown at him, as Fred stuck his tongue out childishly. This reduced George to a fit of giggles; Fred looked adorable when he sulked.

"Now if you've quite finished having a tantrum, shall we get this put up?" George enquired smirking.

Despite Fred's suggestion of where George could put the bunting; the marquee was soon decorated in an abundance of colour. The progress had not stopped Mrs Weasley from worrying however; as she handed the twins dozens more things to do.

Fred threw the list on the ground and made as if to leave. "That's it, I quit!"

Mrs Weasley however was not in the mood to be amused by the twins' antics. "Can you two do anything without messing around" she shrieked, stalking off.

George tapped the side of his head. "Well I'm actually grateful for Mum shouting for once. She burst my ear drum, I can hear again", he said gleefully.

Fred's face was dark despite the good news that George's hearing wasn't too badly damaged. "You'd think after nearly losing one of us that she'd manage a whole day without shouting at us." He had never felt that their Mother truly understood them. The many occasions on which she had expressed her disappointment of their chosen career path had culminated in Fred believing that she loved them less than the others. When perfect Percy had proved not quite so perfect by walking out on the family, she had barely uttered one word against him. Yet one small prank was enough time and again for her to launch a rant against the twins. He would never forget his Mother's words of three years ago. I don't know where we went wrong with them. Fred had been bitter about it ever since; their Mother didn't love them for them; only the idealised image in her head of what the twins should be like. If it wasn't for the fact that Fred didn't want to cause more family upset, he would have voiced these thoughts aloud. He knew that George felt the same; even though they hadn't often discussed it. Most of the time however; it was difficult to feel unappreciated when George was around; with him Fred felt that he was the most special person in the world.

Banishing these dark thoughts, Fred continued as cheerfully as ever. "When it's my wedding, we won't bother with any of this," he told everyone. "You can all wear what you want and I'll lock Mum away until it's over". George offered a weak smile at his twin's joke; feeling a twinge of jealousy at the reference to the woman who would eventually come between them.

All the guests were seated, watching Bill and Fleur take their vows. It was uplifting to hear such professions of love in a time of darkness; a wedding was what everybody needed to take their minds away from the war. Fred wolf whistled as the couple kissed for the first time as husband and wife, as everybody laughed caught up in the joy of the occasion. Fred tried to imagine his own wedding, the event that would lead George and him to lead separate lives. He couldn't see it.

Later that evening at the reception, the twins clapped as the newlyweds held all eyes on the dance floor. Fleur looked stunning in a gown of white, embroidered with black peacocks. George was relieved that he'd managed to get through the day without fainting and spoiling it for them. Despite the exhaustion that was threatening to creep up on him, he continued to clap in time with the music. As other couples proceeded to the dance floor, he and Fred went to get a drink.

"You never know Georgie, there's loads of girls here, we might get lucky. That bandage around your head is bound to attract us some attention." Fred said thoughtfully.

"Yeah" he agreed unenthusiastic. He was half concerned that at the age of nineteen that he still had minimal interest in girls in the romantic sense. They passed a table and a girl with dark hair and a dazzling smile caught Fred's eye and gestured to the empty seat beside her. Fred grinned at George and sat down, engaging her in conversation. George moved awkwardly away; his twin didn't want him right now. Another twang of jealously ran through him. George felt annoyed at himself; he should feel happy for his twin he reasoned, but he couldn't. When Fred and Angelina had briefly dated during their final year at Hogwarts and had visited Hogsmeade together, George had been left alone. Even Lee had managed to get himself a date. George had hated every minute of their short lived romance and had been glad when after one argument too many it had ended. He had never shared these feelings with his twin; he didn't want to fall out with him. They had never fallen out properly before. The two were so close, they rarely if ever kept secrets; but now there were things George could not share with anyone. Especially Fred.

Everyone was engaged in conversation and George felt like a spare part without his twin by his side. Several curious looks were aimed his way, as his bandage certainly was provoking interest. George simply wished that they would stop staring. Fred would have pulled this off better than him, he thought; but George was willing to suffer any injury if it meant that Fred could escape unscathed. He saw Ginny heading in his direction, as he reached the bar and ordered a large firewhiskey. He was never normally one to drink much, but tonight he needed an escape from his increasingly depressing thoughts. Ginny slipped her arm through George's amicably. "Where's Fred?" The tone of surprise was evident in her voice.

"Scoring". George's smile was unconvincing, as Ginny frowned.

"I would have expected him to stay with you, keep an eye on you".

George shrugged in response. "It's fine. Now we're getting older, it's likely that we're going to start being more individual I suppose". George wanted to keep Fred forever, but felt that the time would soon come when he'd have to let him go. It was going to be difficult when it came to that. Despite Fred's words last night, George was worried that one day Fred would be able to go on without him. Often, he felt like the shadow to Fred's glory; even though his twin had never acted in a dominating way. He and Ginny chatted together for half an hour. George was extremely grateful for his little sister's company, but it failed to distract him from observing Fred flirting openly with the dark haired girl. I'll never be able to flirt with girls like that he thought; imagining a lonely life as a bachelor to look forward to.

"Are you ok," Ginny suddenly asked. George started. Did his feelings show that easily?

"Fine", he muttered quickly.

"Want to dance big brother"?

"I would Gin, but I'm afraid my balance has been somewhat compromised. Besides these long legs look awkward dancing".

Ginny smiled, "You look better than Ron. He looks like a dancing gorilla". George snorted, his spirits partially lifted.

Suddenly, the lights flickered and a patronus entered the tent like a falling meteorite. The amplified voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt filled the marquee.

"The ministry has fallen. The minister for magic is dead. They are coming."

Chaos ensued, as death eaters apparated in and spells began to fly in every direction. The temporary peace and joy was bluntly broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying it so far. There may be a couple of weeks until the next chapter, as I'm in the middle of revising for my A-levels. I promise though that this will be finished!


	8. Fred's Fault

George ducked as a chair was flung through the air, narrowly missing his head. In the resulting confusion he had lost sight of Ginny and frantically attempted to spot her in the panicked crowd. Guests roughly jostled him as they endeavored to escape the intruders. The calm, happy atmosphere had rapidly dissipated to one of terror and confusion. George quickly whipped out his wand to defend himself as stunning curses entered the fray. He swore that he saw a flash of green, which indicated the killing curse. _Fred was right, the death eaters don't play nice._ A tall, death eater in flowing black robes, his face hidden by a silver mask targeted him, but George was too quick, dispelling the attack with a well aimed shield charm and sending a stunning spell soon after it. There was no longer any need for him to say the spell, unless he fancied being showy, as both twins had quickly mastered the art of non verbal spells. In the distance he spotted his parents, along with Bill and Fleur, warding off attacks from five death eaters. The cackling laugh of the female immediately identified her as Bellatrix Lestrange. _Crazy bitch_ , George thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he thankfully saw Harry, Ron and Hermione disappear. If the death eaters had found Harry here, they would have all been toast.

"GEORGE, GEORGE!" He immediately whipped around at the sound of his twin's voice, relieved that so far Fred remained unhurt.

"FRED, DUCK", he yelled, as another death eater apparated right behind Fred preparing to cast a curse. Fred immediately crouched to the floor, as his twin sent a full body binding curse to deal with the threat. He quickly pulled his twin to his feet and they stood back to back, moving perfectly in tandem with one another. Death eater after death eater fell to the power of the magic the twins could summon when working together. Soon they were surrounded by a pile of unconscious attackers, but the onslaught seemed never ending.

George felt Fred move and instantly knew to duck, as more spells narrowly brushed past his hair. A yell filled the tent, as Charlie was hit by a Conjunctivitis curse and sank to the ground, temporarily blinded. All that remained of the company was the Weasley family and several members of the Order who were rapidly reducing in number, immobolised by the ferocity of the death eaters' attack. One by one they were overwhelmed, until only Fred and George remained still fighting back to back; inflicting significant damage on those who were trying to subdue them. They were now surrounded on all sides and George saw how desperate the situation was. There was no way that they would be able to take them all out, but the twins were sure as hell not going to go down without a fight. Like two lions they continued to defend each other, completely in sync with one another as always.

"What are you playing at? GET THEM!" A brittle voice barked out commands and the death eaters pressed their attack. George felt himself weakening, his vision blurring and sharp stabs of pain were making themselves felt in his head. He struggled to remain standing, but was soon brought to his knees by the force of the many spells sent against him. Without his twin guarding his back, Fred was caught full in the chest by a stunning spell seconds later. George sank to the floor succumbing to unconsciousness, as the pain from his head wound turned into agony.

* * *

The death eater who had spoken kicked Fred's head sharply to ensure that he was fully unconscious.

"Yaxley, we'll tie this lot up and get them ready for interrogation", another said. Yaxley nodded and examined the twins closely, as several others gathered around to observe the fallen duo. Yaxley dragged George off Fred where he had collapsed backwards over his twin's still body, watching his face for any flicker of movement.

"I wonder why this one just fainted" he mused.

"A bloody good job he did too", Rookwood growled. "Imagine going back to the Dark Lord and having to tell him that we'd failed because of this pair of ginger twits." He kicked Fred again spitefully.

"An impressive performance though. I must say", Yaxley said. "A shame that there's little chance of a Weasley rat abandoning its family".

"I don't know about that, that Per... whatever his name is didn't seem to have any qualms about abandoning them. Which are these two anyway?"

Yaxley shrugged. "Why would I bother to know any of these blood traitor's names. These are the pair that own that shop however."

Crabbe's mouth gaped angrily. "Them's that insulted the dark lord's name with that advertisement?"

"Yes, not so tough now are you?" Fred's head received yet another vicious kick. The twins were unceremoniously dragged across to where the others had been tied up.

George slowly came around again, although the intense pain had not receded. He felt his stomach convulse and repressed the urge to gag. "Incarcerous". George's arms were tightly bound to his sides, painfully so. He turned his head slightly to see that Fred had been placed next to him, still unconscious with his head lolling against his chest. George struggled weakly against his bonds, but it was no use. Even if he could have escaped, under no circumstances would he have abandoned his family; especially Fred.

A death eater had noticed he was awake. "Morning sunshine", he said mockingly, spitting in his face before laughing and walking away. George fumed at the insult; they weren't so big when he and Fred were showcasing their skills. _Cowards._

Rookwood was walking down the line of prisoners, muttering Rennervate. George heard Fred groaning beside him.

"Freddie, are you ok?" He whispered.

Everyone was now fully conscious and aware of the dangerous situation which they were in. Mrs Weasley looked down the row of bound Weasleys and Order members to ensure that nobody was seriously hurt. Luckily nobody was, but she noticed George's still pained expression.

"Oh poor George, you must be feeling awful sweetheart. Wait until I get free, I'll teach them for touching my family".

"I'm fine Mum honest" George soothed.

Fred looked at him, concern spreading across his face. He cast death stares at the group of death eaters approaching them.

Yaxley leered at Mrs Weasley and slapped her hard across the face. "I don't think you're in a position to teach anybody anything bitch!"

"Now, you're going to tell me where Harry Potter is", he commanded in a threatening tone.

"But first let's see who we've got here. Ah yes, the werewolf Remus Lupin. Where's Potter you piece of filth?"

Remus stared stoically ahead, not giving Yaxley the gratification of a response. Another cloaked figure handed him identification papers from the Ministry's files. He took the names of each of them.

"Good," Yaxley sneered. "Co-operate and your punishment may not be so... severe". He moved along to the twins. "Names!"

The twins exchanged looks, since when had they ever meekly cooperated with authority?

"Fancy pants," Fred replied in a voice which sounded sincere. George repressed the urge to smile, trust Fred to anger the death eaters and judging by Yaxley's expression he was frankly unamused. He lent in so that his face was disturbingly close to Fred's; Fred attempted to draw away from the sour breath but his bonds were too tight and prevented him from avoiding the heavy punch to the jaw. Pain spread across his lower face, but the defiance never left his eyes. He heard George gasp and mutter several curses under his breath.

Yaxley grabbed Fred by the hair, yanking his head up.

"You'll show me some respect", he seethed, shaking him roughly. He stepped back looking at the papers again. "Doesn't take much to guess that you must be the twins Fred and George Weasley." He looked closely at George.

"What's that for?" He peered at the bandage wrapped around George's head.

"Well he fancied going for the hippy look," Fred interjected sarcastically.

"Fred!" Mrs Weasley looked aghast at his nerve. George cast him a warning glance, silently pleading with him to remain silent; but Fred ignored him and continued to look mutinously at Yaxley. The rest of the family and Order members watched the unfolding scene with bated breath, regarding Fred's courage as utter foolishness.

Yaxley regarded Fred as a predator with its prey, a cruel smile edged across his face.

"Let's start with you then shall we? Considering you're feeling so brave today. Where's Potter?"

Fred smiled, looking around dramatically for the absent Harry. "Not here you plonker. Unless he's... invisible". His intonation clearly indicated mockery, something that the proud Yaxley could not abide. The cruel smile became dangerous.

"What was that you called me? I will ask you again one last time and if you dare to insult me again there will be... consequences." He gazed at George snidely, but in his state of dumb defiance Fred missed the warning sign.

"I believe that I called you a plonker you tosser. Dear me, U-No-poo didn't send his finest to search for Harry."

The cruelty in Yaxley's smile increased, as he gestured two death eaters forwards.

"Now, I'm about to teach you a lesson. How dare you defy me and insult the Dark Lord you piece of dirt!"

Anger flashed across Fred's face. "Nothing you can do to me will make me bow down to you scumbags!".

Yaxley nodded to the two death eaters who freed George from his bonds and deposited him in a heap at Yaxley's feet. Fred gaped and Yaxley smiled to see the dawning realisation spread across Fred's face; as his expression transformed from one of defiance to complete horror.

"Now, I didn't say _who_ was going to pay did I?" He grabbed George by the collar, dragging him to his knees. "You're a bit less mouthy aren't you?"

Mrs Weasley was struggling frantically against her restraints. "Leave George alone, leave... oh please don't hurt him!" She began to sob heavily. Arthur regarded Fred with disappointment. "Yaxley I'm sure we can talk about this in a civilized manner. I apologise for Fred, he doesn't know when to be quiet."

Yaxley sneered, tilting George's chin upwards noting his terrified expression; he could taste the fear and in his sadistic manner he loved the smell of fear. He enjoyed interrogating people not for seeking the information he needed, but for the pleasure of it.

"Crucio" he whispered, his wand on George. George thrashed about, but didn't utter a single sound. "CRUCIO". George screamed, his body convulsing, as Fred sobbed his twin's name and he wildly but pointlessly tried to free himself and get to George. Everybody looked on helplessly, as George continued to scream. The excruciating pain was so intense that he felt his heart palpitate and wished he was dead so that the agony would stop. Tears streamed down Fred's face; no physical punishment could possibly compare to watching George thrash around and hearing his cries of pain. Yaxley repeated the curse, enjoying the distress which he had created.

"Nothing to say?" he mocked Fred. Fred remained silent, hating every inch of himself for what he'd done to George.

"Don't you know it's rude not to answer somebody? Dear me, I see you haven't quite learnt your lesson have you?"

Fred eye's widened in trepidation. "No, please...please stop hurting him!"

Yaxley showed no mercy.

After muttering another curse, George's screams intensified. The death eater had reopened his wound and fresh, scarlet blood stained the bandage, seeping down his neck to stain his black suit jacket. Finally Yaxley pushed George aside, leaving him twitching on the floor. "Search the house, interrogate them all. I want answers!" He barked. Several death eaters left the Marquee to search for incriminating evidence; the sounds of their hunt could be heard in the tent as every cupboard was thrown open and every nook and cranny methodically investigated.

Rookwood released Fred from his bonds to take him off for interrogation, but Fred escaped from his grip and crawled over to where George lay with blood pooling around his head. Fred placed his hand where George's left ear should have been trying to stop the bleeding, but without a wand it was useless. He gathered George in his arms, murmuring _I'm sorry_ over and over again. Rookwood muttered a spell and the bleeding ceased; Fred breathed a sigh of relief. They were wanted alive... for the time being. George's eyes flickered, "Fred?" He pushed his face into the crook of Fred's neck, still shaking from the after effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Fred caressed his cheek gently, unable to say a word for the shame and guilt creeping over him. This was all his fault... his fault. He'd never forgive himself for this; he thought that he'd deserve for George to hate him. _Why do I always have to make some witty reply._ But Fred knew the answer; whenever he was scared humor had always been the defense he'd hidden behind and look what it had done to George. It was just a mask, a mask that was wearing thin...

Rookwood dragged George away by the legs, as Fred gripped him tight, vowing that nobody would _ever_ be able to take George away from him. He was left with bitter tears as the death eaters managed to prise George from his grasp, as he was taken away for interrogation. Fred was numb, the physical pain when he refused the death eaters questions was nothing. Over and over again, he saw George's terrified brown eyes riven by torment. Tears made a path down his cheeks, as he hoped that George would forgive him.

"Ah look, he's crying", the voices mocked.

"Is it because we hurt your little twin?". He blacked out when the pain became too great, but they revived him, only for it to begin again. The cycle continued unbroken for what seemed an eternity.

* * *

It was past midnight when the death eaters finally realised that nobody was going to reveal anything anytime soon. They departed after ensuring that they left behind as much destruction as possible; hence the family watched as the beautifully decorated marquee was set alight and turned to ash. The family was placed under surveillance, anywhere they went the death eaters would know.

Nobody had been too badly hurt apart from the twins, whom the death eaters had taken a particular dislike too after they had come close to humiliating them. Once again George was laid out on the living room sofa to recover, but this time Fred received no sympathy. Shaking, his body numb with pain he knelt by George as he waited for him to regain consciousness, reaching to wipe away a stream of blood that had made its way down George's pale cheek; but his hand was slapped away by Mrs Weasley who pushed Fred aside. "Just look what you've done, I hope you're pleased with yourself! It's always been you hasn't it Fred? Getting George into trouble due to your own selfishness. He'd be better off if you left him alone!" She shrieked. On the far side of the room, Fleur was crying softly into Bill's shoulder. Her wedding day utterly ruined.

Fred repressed a sob. _She's right, he'd be better off without me._

_"_ It's no use crying Fred, you've brought this upon yourself"; his Father's voice was grim. Fred struggled to his feet, about to leave when he heard George muttering. "Fred".

He stopped in his tracks, even after what he'd done George was calling for _him?_

George sat up slowly, stretching his sore muscles. "My, my you're made of strong stuff George," Mrs Weasley said softly. He looked around for Fred, spotting him by the doorway paused in his retreat and noting his guilt stricken expression. "Where are you off to?" He forced cheeriness into his voice. "Someone needs to help me with the unpleasant task of de-clotting my hair from all this blood". Fred moved closer to the sofa, flinching at the way his Mother was looking at him.

"I'm afraid I'll just have to cut it to the scalp sweetheart, that's never going to all come out. "

Fred shook his head. "No, let's try and wash it out first". Mrs Weasley nodded stiffly and allowed Fred to help his twin upstairs. Fred sat George on the edge of the bath, as he ran some water.

"Freddie?"

"I'm so so sorry George". His twin reached to clasp his fingers in his.

"That wasn't your fault. They probably wanted to do it anyway after we showed them up. Please don't blame yourself. Honestly it's fine. Are you ok, they didn't hurt you did they?"

"No", Fred lied. He couldn't bear for George to be concerned about him, when he'd been the cause of it all.

"This waistcoat is ruined", he commented as he helped George to strip down to the waist.

"Damn, I looked fine in that purple".

"You sure did", Fred smiled weakly.

George knelt over the bath, whilst Fred rinsed his hair. The water reddened, making Fred feel sick. "If this doesn't come out, I'll shave my hair and we can have it made into a wig for you until yours grows back," he said.

"I wouldn't let you do that. It looks like it's coming out fine to me anyway. Good job it's nowhere near as long as in sixth year, that would have been a nightmare", he laughed.

"Yeah"

"We should grow it a bit longer again you know, we looked hot Freddie"

"Yeah George" Fred responded dully.

"What did Mum say to you?" Fred was surprised by his sudden question, but then realised that his shame was etched across his face.

"Oh nothing", he replied quickly.

"Sure?" Fred nodded and finished rinsing the last of the blood. He reached for a towel and gently dried George's neck, head and shoulders. "Does it still hurt?"

"The injury still kills yeah, but the effects of the curse have worn off. God it was horrible, it felt like daggers were continually being thrust into me or like fire. Hard to describe really."

Fred turned his head away and fiddled with the shower hose, avoiding George's eyes. He knew exactly what George had felt, in his entire life he'd never experienced such physical pain: his body tingled unpleasantly from the memory of it. But that was nothing; nothing compared to knowing that the agony was what George had felt too. He was glad that he'd suffered too, self loathing filling him as he felt himself to be the cause of his twin's pain.

"Freddie?" Fred turned, forcing a convincing looking smile on his face.

"I'm really fine... I know that must have awful for you to watch, but the fact that the death eaters didn't get the information they wanted is surely more important. We've got to think of the bigger picture yeah? They never intended to kill me. You're not blaming yourself are you? What you said was funny! The look on Yaxley's face..." He chuckled quietly to himself.

_Funny? Watching you screaming on the ground wasn't funny George._

They walked through to their bedroom, George sitting on his bed so that Fred could re-bandage his head. He did so deftly, allowing his fingers to lightly trace the soft skin of George's neck, admiring the slim torso which was exposed to his gaze. Fred drew back abruptly when he realised what he was doing, remembering that hurting George was not the only source of his self disgust.

"Thank you" George said softly. "So, do I still look hippy?"

Fred smiled with genuine mirth this time. "The look suits you."

George held out his arms for a cuddle, but Fred quickly got up pretending he hadn't noticed. _I don't deserve the comfort of his embrace._ But he turned towards him cursing his selfish thoughts. _George wants my comfort._

He slipped his arms around him, holding him close to his chest. George murmured happily against him making Fred smile. He wished that he could hold him like this forever, keep him forever, but one day he'd have to let George go. He imagined George's own wedding day with agitation, what girl wouldn't want gentle, loving, funny George? Fred had always admired him for that extra gentleness that was their key personality difference, contrasting as it did with his own sharp sarcasm. Only George had been able to bring out his softer side, the side which he wanted to be but didn't know how to be without his savage wit. For all his outward charisma, flirtatious attraction and exuberant wit, Fred pondered whether anyone apart from George could truly love the person they found beneath it all.

Later George beckoned him over to his bed, smiling invitingly. Fred was sorely tempted to cuddle down next to that warm, beautiful body but knew that they couldn't keep doing this. They had long passed the age where sharing beds could be considered acceptable in the fashion of childish innocence.

"No George, we can't keep doing this you know. It's weird enough that we live together."

"What's weird about sharing a flat when we run a shop together", George replied clearly surprised.

"Well you know what people might think", he said quietly.

"Since when have we ever worried about that. I couldn't give a fuck what other people think of us," he insisted adamantly holding out his hand again. But Fred shook his head, climbing into bed and turning away from him to face the wall.

_I do._

The following day the twins returned to their shop, stubbornly determined to keep it open despite recent events. Their Mother hugged George tightly before they left, imploring him to look after himself. The hug which he received was cold, a parting formality and nothing else. It stung, but Fred still believed himself to deserve it. Her words, _better off without you_ echoed consistently in his mind. The rest of the month passed quickly, normally Fred loved Summer, but this year he didn't have the heart to enjoy it. It was hard going keeping the shop open; being muggle born their assistant Verity had been unable to return and their other two part time staff had been too terrified. Fred tried to do as much of the work as possible, noting the pallor that had become a permanent feature of his twin's complexion. He looked ill and tired, but never once complained. Both of them refused to let the shop run into disrepair; it had been their dream.

George never mentioned what had happened at the wedding again, for which Fred was grateful; although the sense of guilt remained. He became withdrawn and quiet. George was concerned to observe this change, feeling helpless to convince Fred that it was alright. He kept to himself the painful headaches and the sickness; Fred would only blame himself if he told him. George felt a certain distance between them; although he hated it perhaps it was better this way. It kept his secret safe. He pushed it to the back of his mind, covering it with laughter and jokes that Fred only made a half hearted effort to join in with; but he knew that it couldn't be ignored forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait for this chapter, but my exams are done now so I can focus my attention on the story more. What do people think?


	9. Forbidden

George's POV

I love him.

There I've admitted it to myself; what I've been feeling for him. And no, I don't just mean in the brotherly way; I love my twin completely. I'm sick, disgusting! This is wrong, but I can't stop this emotion anymore than I can stop the beatings of my heart. The heart that beats for him. It's a deep, inner feeling, something that I cannot control; but that doesn't stop it from being forbidden. Perhaps deep down I've always felt this way; the fact that we came so close to being separated made me fully acknowledge what he meant to me. What I cannot possibly mean to him...

God what if he found out? I'd ruin our relationship, the thing I treasure above all else. He might hate me and never want to see me again. He can never know; the rejection, his disgust would kill me inside. I'd be alone. I've crossed society's greatest taboo. It's incest.. no worse twincest. Could society find anything else more morally repugnant than that? We've got the same DNA for Christ's sake! My whole family would want nothing to do with me, I'd be regarded as a perverted freak. Never again would Fred want to touch me and how much do I need and want his touch! The occasional hugs could never be enough, but perhaps I should be grateful that we have a far closer physical relationship than most brothers do. Despite how wrong I know my feelings are, I can't forget them.

I watch him as he stirs the potion for our new cheering chocolates; his brow creased in concentration. I take the opportunity to study his features, being careful that he doesn't catch me staring. He is beautiful.

We may be identical twins but this isn't narcissism; I'm not in love with myself and never will be. Besides there are subtle differences in our appearances that many people overlook. He is far more beautiful than me. His features although so similar to mine, have an angelic softness in comparison to my sharper, narrower face. His smile could light up the darkest room; whilst mine has always been slightly crooked. It's our voices that distinguish us the most though. His is so bubbly and delightful to listen to, when mine broke at 14 to become deeper and raspier. And his eyes literally seem to sparkle with mischievous energy.

However in the last month that energy has diminished; he's denied it countless times, but I know that he's still distraught over what happened at the wedding and my near death experience. I'd never thought about my mortality much before; it was never mine and Fred's way. But now the war looms over our heads like a dark cloud, as I have to face the prospect that one of us may not make it out alive. I can't think on that though; I'm depressed enough as it is. If this product is successful I think we could both do with a cheering chocolate.

I lose myself in my thoughts, memories of a childhood spent entirely with Fred swirl around my mind, as I try to identify when these feelings were first aroused. Images of two young boys running in the garden, in the spring sunshine come back to me and I smile properly for the first time in several days. Fred notices my absent expression.

He smiles too, but it never reaches his eyes. "Lost in the clouds Georgie? I think this is looking good, we just need to cast the cheering charm. Good old Professor Flitwick, at least some things that they taught us at Hogwarts were useful."

He stirs the mixture, as I cast the charm and the solution shines bright gold before settling at a colour similar to our eyes. This is the first time we've invented in the month since the wedding; I guess neither of us were in the mood. I look around at our lab, which would have been the second bedroom; glad that it provided us with an excuse to still sleep in the same room when for the first time we could have had our own space. Our invented products line several shelves, like trophies for our brilliance. I am filled with pride to see the results of our hard work, yes hard work. People were surprised to see how industrious we could actually be when we put our minds to it. It's always annoyed us really that many took our lack of interest in academia and love of trouble making, as indication that yes, we are funny but not too bright. Nobody could deny our intelligence now; I'm sure that if we'd studied more for our owls we could have got an outstanding in everything. Therefore part of me regrets that perhaps we didn't work hard enough, but then again if we'd got such high grades Mum would have forced us into the ministry. It might of been fun for one day, to create havoc on such a grand scale; everybody would know who we were. We would have been fired on the same day! I share these thoughts with Fred, who laughs with joy this time; my favourite grin of his spreading across his face.

"I doubt they'd even interview us with no newts", he pondered. "Anyone can get into the ministry, though security is probably tighter than it's ever been before; we could do an even better firework show!"

"Perhaps we should save such a stunt for when the ministry's not full of Voldemort's supporters and led by someone under the imperius curse", I reply. "I think we've pissed off the death eaters enough as it is Fred".

"Payback", he grinned. The barrier which has built up between us over the last month seems to ascend as we laugh and joke about old pranks. I feel relived; there's no need for him to ever know what I'm feeling. If I choose never to tell him then he never will know. Fred has always failed to hide anything from me, but then again he's always been open with me. We've never closed off from one another before. I on the other hand have been surprised with my ability to hide over the past month. I'd expected my feelings to show on my face, for Fred to read me as easily as a book; but thankfully he doesn't suspect anything. I wish I didn't have to keep secrets from him, but this is something that nobody can know.

The laughter leaves his face and he frowns seeming to remember something. I feel that invisible barrier descending again and I don't know how I can break it. I've comforted him over what happened, held him as he cried over my injury; told him that what happened at the wedding wasn't his fault over and over until I sound like a broken record. What else can I say?

A throbbing pain in my head demands my attention from my worries about Fred. The headaches haven't left, the potions that I've taken have done little to ease the pain. Nobody really knows anything about the Sectumsempra curse, as it was Snape's invention. What if this pain is due to the effects of dark magic?

"Do you want to test the chocolates?" I am jerked from my thoughts by my twin.

I shake my head. "I was thinking that you could test them, looks like you need cheering up mate. Your face looks like a smacked arse", I tease. To my dismay he doesn't smile.

"Well I've got reason to haven't I?" He demands.

"Fred, I've told you, I don't blame you for what happened". I struggle to keep impatience from my voice; these headaches have made me rather irritable.

"Let's just finish this, yeah". He bluntly ends the conversation and I regard him with exasperation. There's far more reason for him to hate me, but I'm not behaving like a git.

But Fred hasn't entirely been a git. He's overworked himself, trying to prevent me from doing too much. He must have noticed that I wasn't feeling well; I can't hide everything from my twin it seems. It touches me deeply when he brings me breakfast in bed and insists on doing all the washing up. At least if we can't open up to one another, we both know that how much we care for one another will never change.

He hands me a cheering chocolate and I obediently try it, surprised that Fred doesn't want to seek some relief from his own obvious misery. Immediately, I feel much happier and grin stupidly. My worries and doubts seem to evaporate. Maybe Fred feels the same way...it would be wonderful. Mental images of us together swim before my eyes; ok maybe these chocolates cheered me up too much. Abandoning all dignity, I throw myself at Fred and hug him tightly; knocking over the bottle of ink on the table in the process. He smiles and hugs me back awkwardly. "I think we can safely conclude that these work. We'll get loads of customers back if they know we've got something to make them less miserable over the war." I grin stupidly and shove another chocolate into my twin's mouth, wanting Fred too to forget his fears. He chews it and swallows and in the next second the smile has reached his eyes. That beautiful sparkle is back and he too seizes me tightly, matching my stupid grin. He giggles, "maybe these are a tadge too strong." I shake my head, giggling too.

"No, I feel great!" I grab his hand and we dance stupidly around the room, until I trip over the ink bottle and send us both tumbling to the floor. We land in a gasping heap, with me underneath him; his face barely a inch from mind. It takes all of my willpower in this carefree state not to do something incredibly foolish, like kissing my twin for instance. The goofy look on his face disappears to be replaced by one filled with tenderness. He strokes my face reverently and cups my chin in his hand, tilting it up slightly so that we're looking into each other's eyes. We're both breathing heavily from dancing about the room. I tighten my arms around his waist, unsure what he's doing. There is a momentary hesitation before he lightly presses his lips to mine and quickly retreats, heaving me gently to my feet. I blink, what just happened? Half of me wants his lips on mine again, the other half is very confused.

The cheering chocolates take hours to wear off; they are too strong for public consumption. What happened seems like a dream; I must have imagined it. And if not, it was nothing more than a chaste, brotherly kiss; turned into the possibility of something more by my disgusting thoughts. At least Fred seems happier though, as he goes about our tasks with a whistle. I'm glad to have my twin back, hopefully he's finally moved on from the wedding; but I can't be sure not until I know his demeanour is not the effect of the chocolates.

Later on I lounge on my bed, flipping through a quiditch book. How I miss it, there hasn't been much opportunity to play since Umbridge kicked us off the team during our last year. I've heard that the cow has become quite important at the ministry; seems when she's not torturing students it's the muggleborns. I hope that Verity is safe wherever she went; she didn't tell us as it's safer for us not to know.

"I'm going for a shower," Fred suddenly announces. I expect him to leave for the bathroom, but to my shock he strips completely naked right in front of me and dawdles; folding his clothes neatly. Of course we've seen each other naked plenty of times with us sharing a room, but his boldness astounds me. I try to avert my gaze, but find myself admiring him and am immediately sickened by my actions. What a sicko! But I don't break my gaze, as I observe his slender body. He suddenly chuckles.

"I know I'm hot Georgie, but really". I blush, panicked that he caught me looking at him. I quickly force calmness into my voice.

"I wasn't staring at you, I was lost in thought", I reply evenly. He turns then to regard me shrewdly; I feel his gaze boring right through me. A flicker of something crosses his face, of disappointment? He quickly exits, leaving me more confused than ever. No, I must stop this train of thought before it sends me mad. Fred's feelings towards me do not match my own; how could they? My heart races in my chest, was he creeped out that he'd caught me or did he accept that I was lost in thought. My ability to hide may not be as good as I thought it to be.

That night I'm plagued by dreams... of Fred. He's holding me, caressing my body and kissing me. Telling me that he could love nobody like he loves me. I wake panting, revolted that I've been aroused by the dream. Tears slip down my cheeks, what do I do... oh God what do I do?

I shall do nothing. I bury these feelings deep within me. I never acknowledge them again. I forget this, it's probably nothing but my fear that we were nearly separated playing tricks on my mind. I'm lucky to have Fred, my twin, my best friend. My soulmate? I throw the key to these feelings away, they will only break my heart into pieces. I never allow myself to think of them again, but they remain firmly embedded into my heart.


	10. Assignment

George was dismayed to observe that Fred's refound cheerfulness was a result of the cheering chocolates, as his twin returned to the quieter persona which he had recently become used to. Despite the pounding in his head, George laughed and joked for the both of them; determined to be as energetic as possible so that he had no time to dwell on the thoughts which he had locked away. Summer transformed into Autumn, as September arrived. The weather became noticeably colder, as the leaves began to fall from the trees. Diagon Alley had never looked so bleak; even Weasley's Wizard Wheezes failed to attract the most intrepid of shoppers. As a result the twins had significantly reduced their opening hours, but refused to let the death eaters win completely. They redecorated the shop's exterior, making the bold purple and orange shop front stand out even further.

"Just think", Fred said as they tidied displays of skiving snackboxes and canary creams. "Harry, Ron and Hermione would have been going back to Hogwarts today."

George frowned. "I hope they're ok". He adjusted another stack of nosebleed nougat, that really didn't require alteration; but he was fidgety and needed to keep busy.

"Better than they would have been if Harry had just got on the train as normal. The death eaters would have seized him immediately."

"I can't believe Snape and the Carrows are in charge now. They'd better not hurt Ginny". George shook his head in disgust.

"A good job we're not there to antagonise them; we wouldn't have finished the school year alive."

George quickly straightened from the colourful boxes he had been examining and grinned widely. "Was that a joke I heard? Anyone would think you were Fred Weasley!"

"I'm sorry I haven't been living up to your expectations," Fred responded irritably.

George quickly deflated in disappointment. If they'd been in regular contact with the rest of their family and friends, people would have been shocked to see the transformation in his twin.

"It's other people who expect us to be funny and happy all the time", he reminded him. "I on the other hand have a right to be worried when this is the first joke you've made in days."

"Well there's no need for _you_ to worry", Fred snapped. He immediately apologised, seeing the sadness in George's eyes.

"There's every need for me to worry about you", he responded quietly.

Fred opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and continued with rearranging the shelves. George walked over to the till and counted their takings for the day. A pitiful three galleons and that was it; they were going to struggle paying off their investors that month. Even with Harry's one thousand galleons that he had gifted them at the end of their sixth year, it had not been enough to realise their dream. He pulled the investors' contract from a folder behind the register and studied it with a frown. If their financial situation deteriorated much further there was the very real chance that the shop would close down.

"You want lunch?", George turned to look for Fred but he had disappeared. Panicking slightly, he searched the shop and then quickly ran upstairs to their apartment. He found him standing in front of the bathroom mirror, his eyes sunken and his face blotchy.

"I was wondering where you vanished to..." George said as he caught sight of Fred's face. "Are you ok? What's going on Freddie?"

Fred shrugged and walked past him into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of Firewhiskey from the cupboard and slumping into one of the chairs. George followed him, concern for his twin radiating off every inch of him. He sat down in the chair opposite, watching as Fred knocked back mouthfuls of the fiery liquid.

"It's not like you to drink so much", he observed. "If you want to feel more cheerful again, have another chocolate."

Fred nearly spat his mouthful out at the mention of their recent experiment. "Not a good idea", he managed to choke out.

George nodded, swallowing hard, checking that the locks he'd so recently fastened onto his deepest thoughts were secure, locking them even tighter away. "Yeah, we'd better alter the solution before we start selling them to the public. I wonder how many Voldemort would have to eat before he became a happy go lucky person, instead of focusing on his plans for world domination!"

"George! I told you not to say the name!" Fred was looking at him, utterly aghast.

But George grinned and looked around. "I know we're being watched by the death eaters, but they haven't made it a crime yet..."

He was cut off mid sentence by the arrival of a large, tawny screech owl through the kitchen window and yelled in surprise, as it caught him around the head with a powerful wing and came to settle on the table. The most minuscule of smiles found its way onto Fred's face; whilst George rubbed his head.

"Ouch!" He complained, "stupid bird".

Fred got up and rubbed his head affectionately. "No lasting damage", he chuckled. "Maybe now you'll stop being a daredevil and not say the name anymore".

"Says you", George grumbled. "The biggest daredevil of them all."

Clutched in the bird's talons was a piece of parchment. George unrolled it and read the letter aloud.

Dear Fred and George,

Hope you two are ok and behaving yourselves!

We hope to see you at home for dinner on the 15th.

Love Mum x

The twins exchanged looks, immediately understanding that the letter implied a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix rather than a family gathering. George held up the letter's seal, which had clearly been broken and fused together again once the death eaters had finished reading it. It was far too dangerous to put anything incriminating into writing with all their correspondence being carefully monitored.

George frowned as he reread his Mother's letter. "It would have been safer to come and tell us in person", he uttered. "This is bound to make them suspicious."

Fred nodded and came to peer over his shoulder. "Behaving yourselves!" He said with irritation. "What does she think we are five?"

George lifted his head from the letter and regarded him for a moment. "Every time I mention Mum, you get all defensive. I know she said something to you after the Wedding. I just wish you'd tell me what".

"It really doesn't matter", Fred said resisting his twin's entreaty. "Hopefully at this meeting, we'll form some kind of strategy rather than spending hours deliberating over the finer details."

* * *

 

As instructed, on the 15th September the twins left their shop to attend the meeting. Fred was about to step down from the doorstep, but was stopped by George tugging at his elbow. "Look over there", he whispered, his lips barely moving. Fred subtly glanced at where his twin had indicated to see two cloaked figures leaning against a wall further down the alley. It was clear that they were watching the front of their shop, as they had raised their heads when the twins had emerged. The hood of the taller slipped back, partially revealing his face as he stepped forward out of the shadows. It was Augustus Rookwood. Fred stepped protectively in front of George, but it seemed that the death eaters had no other intention but to watch them. He slipped his hand in George's and interlaced their fingers so that they could apparate together. "Come on holey one, let's get out of here before they decide to stop us." George squeezed his hand gently in response, but was extremely concerned for his twin's mental state. One minute he was putting barriers between them and the next being his usual charming self. He could sense however, that Fred wouldn't take too kindly to excessive questioning.

They apparated to the Burrow, arriving just beyond the boundary of the many protective enchantments which had been cast over the dwelling. Fred felt that the shield which they provided was nothing more than an illusion; after all the death eaters had managed to easily overcome them when they had attacked the wedding party. The twins walked up towards the house; the sound of many voices suggested that they were nearly the last ones to arrive. George glanced downwards and nearly started in surprise, realising that they were still holding hands. Fred noticed where he was looking and immediately withdrew, much to George's regret, muttering sorry as he did so.

Mrs Weasley was stood at the door waiting for them. "There you two are", she beamed and seized them both in a hug.

"I hate not being able to see you much, but I suppose it's safer if we keep a low profile and not attract their attention as much as we can." She hugged them both tightly at the same time and ended up knocking their heads together as usual.

George grinned, as the twins rubbed each other's heads. "Mum, we're going to have to ban simultaneous twin hugging."

"Sorry dears", she gasped, clapping her hand to her mouth.

George smiled. "It's fine Mum. We know you're trying to knock sense into us. Isn't she Fred?"

"Yeah", Fred responded quietly. It seemed that their Mother had forgiven and forgotten his baiting of the death eaters at the wedding, as she did after any outburst at the twins. They however, never forget the things that she said to them; even though deep down they knew that she probably didn't mean it. Therefore Fred was still deeply stung by her words, mainly because he believed that she was right.

She ushered them into the kitchen, which was packed to bursting with the Order of the Phoenix. Fred and George stood unobtrusively at the back. Their opinions had never been particularly welcome; in the minds of the more senior members they were there to do what they were told. After the death of Mad Eye, Kingsley Shacklebolt had been elected as their new leader; a dangerous position for him to fulfil with his position at the ministry and already he was under suspect. Fred and George felt that it was only a matter of time before the death eaters uncovered the Order.

As Fred had feared they wasted hours of the precious little time they had in intense debate. The Order needed to raise support or their stance against Voldemort would be dismantled, but the gathered party disputed how they should go about this.

"We need to decide when we make our move", Shacklebolt said.

"We can't do that without gathering support first and we need Harry", Lupin insisted.

"Who seems to have disappeared on us", spoke a witch with raven black hair.

Lupin shook his head. "Harry is on a mission set by Dumbledore. He has not abandoned us".

"We have to trust each other; otherwise this is hopeless". Tonks attempted to calm the angry tensions which had arisen; her pregnancy was beginning to show now and she looked tired and worn out.

"I can gather us support from wizards abroad", Charlie Weasley said. "There's plenty of Witches and Wizards that I've met in Romania who are concerned about what's happening".

"Would they be willing to fight?" Shacklebolt interrupted.

"A good number of them yes," Charlie nodded.

"Numbers aren't the only important thing", Lupin reminded them."We have right on our side and many skilled dualists". Several people turned to look at Fred and George; they had been impressed to hear of the skill they'd displayed at the wedding. George wished that they would value their opinions as well. The group continued to hotly debate what kind of opposition they should mount and who they should attempt to enlist.

"All the aurors are on our side", said Shacklebolt. "At the moment though they're limited to what they can do; the death eaters are watching them like hawks."

"There's something you're overlooking", Fred interjected boldly. The second he opened his mouth to speak, Mrs Weasley glanced at him to be quiet and many of the members looked frankly annoyed at the interruption. Kingsley proceeded to carry on talking, ignoring what Fred had said. Fred however had had enough and was determined to be listened to.

"What's the point of us being here if none of you are interested in hearing our opinions?" He demanded firmly, but managing to retain a calm tone. George nodded beside him and stepped forwards slightly from where he and Fred had been leaning against the wall.

"You never know we might have something useful to say"; George couldn't resist inserting a hint of sarcasm into his voice. Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded stiffly.

"Has nobody thought of talking to the shopkeepers of Diagon Alley-

They have loads of contacts-

Which means we'd be able to boost our numbers-

And they can encourage their customers to support us-

Not to mention they'll be able to provide us with some useful information-

Even death eaters need to shop after all-

The alley might be quieter than it usually is-

But it's not completely dead." George finished.

There was silence in the room, but everybody was nodding. For the first time the rest of the Order were regarding the twins with _respect_. Finally, Fred thought; they might start taking us more seriously from now on. Beside him George was smiling; Fred turned his head and they shared an amused look. Mrs Weasley beamed at them again, proudly.

"I knew you two had been wasting your brains!" She said excitedly to several chuckles. The twins reddened; ok they had come close to be respected perhaps.

Kingsley stood up, signalling the end of the meeting. "That's your assignment then", he said nodding at the twins. "See if you get more people to promise us support. Meanwhile we bide our time, wait for Harry to contact us. And everybody stay safe."

* * *

 

"Fancy going for a drink", Fred suggested as they walked back down the path towards the boundary line. George grinned at him and slung an arm affectionately around his shoulders.

"Sure. Eh we surprised a few people back there."

Fred grinned too, "maybe now we'll be able to speak more without Mum constantly shushing us."

George nodded. "That's always been people's problem with us hasn't it? They're not interested unless we're entertaining them and lighting their day up."

"Well if it's any consolation I'll always find you interesting", he smiled leaning in to him.

Amicably, they apparated to The Leaky Cauldron, which despite the dark times was packed to the rafters with revellers. Fred shifted through his pockets for money. "Damn I don't have anything."

"I've got enough for a bottle, we'll have to share. I don't know, you invite me on a date and make me pay", he teased.

Fred blushed slightly and picked up the drinks menu to hide it. "Technically, it's both our money anyway. Unless you suddenly want to have separate accounts."

George tried to peer over the top of the menu, but Fred raised it an inch higher to hide his still crimson face. "Nah, I trust you not to splash it all", he grinned. "Am I going to be talking to the menu all evening?"

Fred dropped it onto the table, hoping that George hadn't noticed the effect his teasing had had on him. George left his seat to go up to the bar; whilst Fred attempted to pull himself together. _Stop it, just stop it_ , he thought desperately. George quickly returned bearing a bottle of firewhiskey. "I would have brought us glasses, but I don't think Tom has cleaned them in several weeks," he chuckled, as he took a swig from the bottle and pushed it across to Fred. He hadn't wiped it.

Fred panicked, should he wipe the top, but then George might be offended; on the other hand if he didn't wipe it with his sleeve George might become suspicious to what he was feeling... He quickly realised that he was being paranoid, they'd always shared things and never spared a thought for wiping the top. He took a sip, tasting the strong but delicious liquid, as well as a hint of something that he'd tasted in their laboratory. How he wanted to reveal to George what he felt. In the end George drank most of the bottle, as Fred had only taken tiny sips and had become rather tipsy. He giggled about nothing, his shoulders shaking with mirth.

Fred laughed, "let's go before you start dancing Georgie. I don't want you to embarrass me! We'll walk up the street; you'll throw up if we apparate."

Fred slipped an arm around his shoulders and supported his weight as they left the pub and slowly progressed back to their shop. George was still laughing as he slipped an arm around his waist. "I loooooove you Freddie!" He said happily.

"And I love you too, you great prat"; he moved his arm to George's waist to hold him tighter. "Gee I thought you were the responsible one".

"I am... wouldn't have let you drink all that that.."

"Whiskey?", Fred offered unable to keep a straight face.

"That is precisely the word I was looking for, knew we were psychic!"

Fred smiled at him lovingly as they came in sight of their shop. "You know you're even more adorable when you're tipsy Georgie."

George smiled and put both arms around his neck, leaning in close...

It was at that moment that Fred noticed the shop was aglow with light, which served as an immediate indicator that something was very wrong. Fred set off at a sprint, dragging George behind him by the hand who was stumbling along; the moment broken. They entered through the front door which was wide open and paused in horror to see the carnage that the death eaters had created. Shelves had been knocked over, products smashed and potions had been spilled all over the floor, leaving behind a multicoloured mess that oozed around their feet.

Several death eaters emerged from where they had been searching the storeroom. "Rookwood, Dolohov", Fred spat. "What the hell do you think you're doing breaking in here".

Rockwood stepped towards them, his wand held out threateningly. "Oh my dear friend, you misunderstand us", he said in a mocking voice. He unfolded a piece of parchment which could be easily identified as an official ministry document. "We have permission to search your establishment for evidence of links with the Order of the Phoenix. I'm sure you don't object to a government order?"

"We object to any orders as a matter of fact!" Fred seethed.

"And look at the mess you've made, your orders didn't give you permission to do that!" George slurred.

"Careful now, you don't want to seem like you've got something to hide", Dolohov sneered at them. "Where have you been these last few hours".

"Why? Did we stay up past our bedtime", George replied dryly. Fred placed a hand gently on his shoulder, warning George not to bait them. It wasn't worth getting hurt for, not worth George being in pain at all. George glanced at him and swallowed back another sarcastic comment.

"We had dinner at home, then went out for a drink", Fred spoke calmly, hoping that if they cooperated the death eaters would leave.

"Obviously". Rockwood took in George's drunken state and the missing ear. He laughed nastily. "Something missing ugly?" George placed a hand self consciously where his ear had been, to find a gaping hole and rough scar tissue. He felt himself tearing up; he'd been right everybody apart from Fred would find him ugly now.

Anger was evident in Fred's voice as he told the death eaters in no uncertain terms to clear out.

"I think we can be satisfied that there's nothing here", Rookwood said. "Be assured that If I get as much of a thread linking you to the Order, that I will have great pleasure in coming to arrest you."

Once they had left Fred slammed the door shut, quaking with rage. How dare they insult George.

"Well we'd better get started clearing this mess up..." George suggested, his voice quivering slightly.

Fred pulled him into a tight embrace. "We'll leave it until tomorrow", he said softly against his hair. "Don't you ever think that this injury makes you ugly. It shows how brave you were Georgie. We can always grow our hair out a little to cover our ears."

"I suppose, but don't you think it's better shorter for the time being. We wouldn't be much use in a battle with it flopping into our eyes," he sniffed.

Fred nodded. "Alright, but don't be self conscious."

"I'm not...It's funny really... Lots of jokes to be made," he tried to insist but Fred raised a hand.

"Don't lie, I know you are and it's ok to be with me. I'm hardly going to accuse you of being vain now am I?"

George shook his head. "No, it's just that...It's stupid really".

"What is Georgie?" Fred inquired gently.

"No one's going to want to go out with someone who's missing an ear", he blurted out. Fred took a deep breath before replying.

"Anyone who can't get over that doesn't deserve you Saint Georgie". He stroked his cheek with his thumb. "Head up". George smiled at him gratefully and they went upstairs to bed. Fred tucked the edges of the duvet around his twin, lost in thought. _George wants a girlfriend_. He hated the thought as jealous feelings spread through him. If things couldn't be the way that he wanted them to be, then he wanted them to stay exactly as they were. Later as he stared at the ceiling, all his attempts to fall asleep thwarted, he heard George whimpering in his sleep. He immediately leaped out of bed and went to sit on the edge of George's bed to stroke his twin's face in a soothing manner. Hesitating, he slipped under the duvet with him, spooning up to him. George's whimpers quickly ceased as he reached out in his sleep to feel his twin beside him.


	11. Dissension

Fred awoke the following morning feeling more depressed than ever; his thoughts a combination of _if only's_ and _what if's._ George was still fast asleep next to him; he'd always been the heaviest sleeper of the two of them. He contemplated getting up and dealing with the mess left by the death eaters himself and he definitely thought that it was the best idea to get out of bed before George noticed he'd climbed in next to him. He knew that he'd cave under the force of his suspicion; he'd never been able to keep anything from George before. Sighing he slipped from underneath the covers, the cold instantly hitting him, making him long for the warmth of his twin's body. Nevertheless, he dressed and proceeded downstairs after leaving a quickly scrawled note for his twin. He didn't want him to worry. Upon entering the shop floor the full extent of the damage wrought by the death eaters became apparent in the revealing light of day. It soon became clear that some of the most expensive items on display were beyond repair. Fred uttered a string of curses aloud, with the fall in profits they weren't going to be able to replace them anytime soon. He muttered _reparo_ over the collapsed shelving and tidied up the broken glass. Fred turned towards the congealed mess of pimple vanisher and love potions, his shoulders slumping. _Such a waste._ With a flick of his wand the mess vanished leaving behind shelves that were empty of products. There was no point in them opening today with this disorder, as he realised that he'd only made a tiny dent in the clean up job.

Moving between the display stands he noticed the cage of pygmy puffs lying on its side; the tiny creatures were mewling piteously. "I'm sorry, I didn't think to come and check to see if you'd been knocked over". He opened the cage to pick up one of the balls of pink fluff and stroked the soft fur. He righted the cage, but the gilded door still stood open and the pygmy puffs tumbled out and started rolling across the floor, squeaking loudly. "Damn!" Fred ran after them, scooping most of them up and placing them back inside their cage. Only one stubborn puff remained, which had attempted to hide itself by rolling underneath the stand of fireworks. "Accio pygmy puff", the tiny creature was instantly sent towards him and he gently caught it in cupped hands, returning it to its fellows.

George ran into the shop, his pajamas disheveled. "Oh Fred, you didn't need to start this by yourself!" Fred noticed George's pale, bare feet.

"George, step back, there might be some glass that I missed!"

"What? I can't see any. YOUCH!" He yelped as he stepped backwards onto a particularly sharp splinter, which spliced the sole of his foot open. He hopped up and down on one foot, his face contorted in pain. Fred rushed to his side and sat him on the ground. "You daft sod!" He chided, taking out his wand to heal the gash. The skin slowly knitted together easing the pain. "Better?"

"Yeah, thank you. God what a mess!" George took in the shop in dismay.

Fred helped him up and opened the till. He quickly slammed it shut again, quaking with rage. "The bastards" He seethed. "They've robbed us blind!"

George limped over to the till, carefully avoiding the remaining glass fragments and looked for himself. There had been nearly 30 galleons in there and now nothing. Fred still looked completely furious and George could tell that his black mood was going to last all day.

* * *

A month later and George was sat at his desk in their apartment's living room. He had been wrong, Fred's awful mood had not lasted all day, it had lasted all month. George could understand why he was pissed, it had taken them days to clear through the debris and it was only now that the shop was fully stocked again; but he couldn't understand why Fred had withdrawn from him even further. Every time he reached out to him, his twin fell further and further out of reach. More worrying still was the fact that some of Fred's anger seemed to be directed towards _him._ George wracked his brain attempting to discover the reason for Fred's mood, but he knew that he had done nothing. Anytime he attempted to talk to his twin about something other than business he blanked him and excused himself from the room. The tension between them was wearing George down; he couldn't stand it. George knew that Fred wouldn't be behaving like this unless there was a good reason, but he couldn't help him unless he told him what was going on. It had been a huge mistake to drink so much when they'd gone out, as the terrible headaches had reached their zenith in terms of pain. They had left creases across his forehead, making him look older than his nineteen years. To cap it all his eardrum was blocked and he couldn't hear a thing from his left ear. This served to make him extremely jumpy as he constantly looked over his left shoulder, half expecting somebody to be coming up behind him unheard. In the present situation with Fred he hadn't shared this turn in his health, but he knew that if things got much worse he'd need to see a healer immediately.

He glanced down at the accounts piled up in front of him; fair enough it was his turn to look over them but the numbers were making his head pound. He dropped the black quill he had been holding poised above the parchment with a groan. He was becoming desperate, he wanted the pain to stop and more than anything else he wanted his twin.

The twins had made significant progress on their assignment; despite the discord that had sprung up between them. They had spoken to all of the shopkeepers of Diagon Alley; whilst avoiding the more shady characters to be found in the sinister Knockturn Alley. From Madame Malkin's to Quality Quiditch Supplies and the Magical Menagerie, all had been willing to do what they could to support the Order. So far this newfound support had been a significant success, as the twins had been able to report back to the Order on the movements of several known death eaters. It had given them a much needed clue to Voldemort's own movements. Like them , he was rousing support, but in far greater numbers than the Order could ever hope to achieve.

Giving up George went to seek out his twin; he found him in their bedroom his expression stony. "Finished the accounts then?" His tone was abrupt and unfriendly.

"No I had to leave them for tomorrow, I've got a headache". A bit of an under statement he thought.

Fred tutted, his annoyance showing. "So you expect me to do everything do you? I don't know, I bent over backwards for you when you'd been injured, but I think you're taking the piss now."

"I never asked you to...", George was cut off mid sentence as Fred suddenly got up and left the room, leaving George looking after him sadly. Never had they avoided each other like this before. Never before had they had what could be classified as a proper argument. The only thing he could compare it to was when Fred and Angelina had briefly dated. He'd felt so left out, as Angelina didn't seem to like having him around. But that was nothing like _this_ , Fred had still been completely normal with him; they'd just been less inseparable than usual. No wonder I'd felt jealous, he thought.

Rather than feeling sorry for himself, George decided to confront him. Things had gone far enough, he was going to get answers out of Fred and he was going to get them now. Fred had escaped to the living room. _It's like a game of musical chairs,_ George thought dryly; _he goes from one room to the other to shun me._ Fred looked up as he entered, frowning and made to leave again. George however, remained in the doorway blocking his escape.

"Move George". He ordered, but George failed to budge, regarding him with tight lips.

"No," he kept his voice calm, but felt anger bubbling up. _How dare he treat me like this?_ _"_ You're going to tell me what's wrong with you, you wouldn't be avoiding me if there wasn't something the matter."

Fred paled considerably. _He certainly doesn't want me to know what it is, but then I don't want him to know my secrets._ However the anger had not left his eyes; the eyes that had had their happy sparkle replaced by a dark stare that George was shocked to see directed at him.

"Move", Fred repeated, ignoring the question.

"Tell me what's wrong Freddie. Please. What have I done? Whatever it is I'm really sorry," George pleaded.

"Just leave me alone! I'm sick of you asking, just bloody shut up will you?" The volume of his voice was incredibly close to shouting. Tears filled George's eyes and he bit his bottom lip anxiously. They never spoke to each other like this, told the other to go away. They loved being together, always and hated being apart for longer than a few hours at a time.

"This isn't like you", George tried again. "We stay together, we don't avoid each other. Please?"

"Well maybe I don't want to be around you all the time!" Fred snapped viciously. "You're always in my face constantly, I can't get rid of you. Now get out of my way before I move you myself."

George wilted under his words, as sadness engulfed him like a tidal wave. He stood frozen in place, struggling to believe that this was his twin saying these things to him. Fred cursed and shoved past him, knocking his shoulder hard against the doorframe. George let a single tear fall as he watched his twin's retreating back; he'd never felt so helpless. A sudden wave of nausea overcame him and he sprinted for the bathroom, barely making it in time before he retched into the toilet. His sides still heaving, George wiped the stench from his mouth and swallowed a tiny mouthful of water from the silver tap at the sink. Shaking he glanced in the mirror, presented before him was a mess. His skin was even paler than usual and clammy, with the tear streaks still shining against the cold skin. He sank to the floor and gave in to the wave of tears; even though he cursed his weakness he felt so ill and emotional. Fred must have heard him throwing up, but he hadn't come to see if he was ok...

He heard the door creak open behind him through his right ear only and quickly turned to hide his face.

"Were you throwing up?" Fred's voice had temporarily lost its angry edge upon seeing George in a heap on the bathroom floor.

"Just go away", George mumbled. He heard the bathroom door creak again. Fred had gone.

George thought that he had never felt worse in his life, as he heaved himself off the bathroom floor. The difficult times in his life had been nowhere near as bad as they could have been, because he had always had Fred. But now George felt lonely for the first time in his life, his secret and Fred's outburst weighing heavily on his soul.

* * *

If George had felt that things couldn't get any worse, they soon proved him wrong, as the dissension between them meant that silence descended upon Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and the exuberant, laughing twins seemed but a distant memory. A ghost that lingered over the haunting stillness. Since the argument three days ago, the twins had not exchanged so much as a single word. They both lay awake at night, lost in misery, as Fred cursed the feelings that were destroying his and George's relationship.

Darkness had descended over the alley, as George paced outside the shop in agitation. Fred had gone out hours ago and he had yet to return. Fear coursed strongly through George, as he dwelled on the many different things that could have happened to him. Despite the hurt that Fred had caused, the thought of something happening to him was agonising. And so he waited, the seconds that passed seeming to move slower than normal; as if time itself wanted to contribute to what he was suffering. Finally, a tall figure with rich ginger hair emerged out of the darkness, staggering slightly as Fred had tried to drink himself into sweet oblivion. But the alcohol had done nothing to free him from his grave of despair and self loathing. _Look at what I have done._

Relief spread across George's features to be quickly replaced by anger. The selfish git hadn't spared a thought for him worrying; he couldn't even be bothered to leave him a note. He stood with his arms folded as Fred approached. His twin halted seeing him stood there.

"Where the hell have you been?" George's voice was laced with anger.

"What's it to you?" Fred insisted. "Just because we're twins doesn't mean I have to ask your permission to go somewhere."

George shook his head in absolute disbelief. "Have you any idea how much I've been worrying? You could have been lying dead in the street for all I knew!"

"I told you to leave me be! What part of that didn't get through that thick skull of yours?" Fred snapped back.

"You're a git", George said, his voice trembling. "I try to help you and you just throw everything back in my face."

Unshed tears sparkled in Fred's dark brown eyes, which were flecked with lighter hues of chestnut brown. "It's alright for you, you've got no idea what I'm going through. I wish...I wish we weren't twins!" He blurted out.

George reeled. It felt as if he'd been stabbed through the heart. _He wishes that we weren't twins. Oh why? He wishes that we weren't twins. He wishes that I wasn't here..._

Tears slipped unchecked down his cheeks and he suddenly felt the urge to go; he couldn't stand this anymore. He walked away into the gathering dark; his wand left forgotten inside the shop. He heard Fred sobbing behind him, calling his name. "George, Georgie! I...I didn't mean it like that. Come back, you're not well!" George broke into a sprint, running blindly as the heavens opened. Rain drenched him to the skin as he continued to run; Fred's shouts becoming quieter as he couldn't keep up. He headed down Knockturn alley, becoming lost in the maze of twists and turns. He skidded to a halt completely lost, as he'd never been this far into the alley before. An old crone leered at him from across the dank passage where he found himself. "Are we lost handsome? Come inside, I'll warm you up." George kept tight to the wall in order to move past her, his insides clenching uncomfortably.

Fred had caught sight of George disappearing down Knockturn Alley. _No, don't go down there,_ He panicked. He soon lost him amongst the unfamiliar scenery.

George came to a dead end; in complete and utter dejection he sank to the ground. What had happened? Merely two months ago they'd told one another how much they loved each other. And now... Now Fred seemed to hate him.

"Well, what do we have here?" said Scabior, a gang of unruly snatchers at his back, blocking George's exit. He was cornered, trapped. He reached into the pocket of his jeans to draw out his wand, but was overwhelmed with horror to discover it missing. Where had he dropped it? But then he remembered leaving it on the side. Now he was unarmed against a gang of snatchers; even though he was a pureblood they wouldn't hesitate to inflict harm. Especially considering that being pureblood meant that they couldn't hand him into the ministry and turn him into cash. _This is it, this is how I die. Unglorious, undignified, against a dank alley wall._ He would have preferred dying from his ear injury; it would have been a hero's death, like Mad Eye's. _I would have died with Fred loving me..._

_"_ Let's teach this Weasley blood traitor not to prowl around on our territory," he snarled.

George yelped as the first blow caught him around his throbbing skull. He raised his arms to shield himself, but they continued to make painful contact with his body. "Fred", he whimpered...


	12. Sorry

"GEORGE, GEORGE...GEORGIE?" Fred's throat felt raw from calling his twin's name so much. He came to a halt, at a loss of where to look next. George could have apparated anywhere. What if he chose never to come back? _This is all my fault._ In that moment he'd never hated himself so utterly, as the enormity of what he had said to George hit home, as he realised what it had sounded like to his twin; the pain that he must have caused him. The bond between them was pulled taut, ready to snap; it was not something simply metaphorical, there was a real magical connection which Fred had endangered by his words. He turned to walk slowly back to their shop, knowing that trying to find him would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Perhaps George just wanted time to cool off before facing him again, but he halted feeling deep within him that something was wrong. He visualised George running from him...He didn't have his wand. Fred realised that he couldn't have gone far, as he felt bile rise in his throat. George was vulnerable and defenseless because of him. He drew out his own wand, having a disturbing sensation that he was going to be needing it; gripping the pine cone shaped handle firmly as if by holding something he could keep himself in one piece, when he felt near to falling apart.

Setting off again at even greater speed despite his alcohol infused state, he covered considerable ground before coming to a halt once again. The dark alley appeared menacing and full of unseen dangers, no wonder they'd always been warned to stay away from it. He passed an old crone standing against a wall; she leered at him sending shudders down his spine. For all his flirtatiousness Fred felt genuinely shy when it came to that sort of thing. When all hope seemed lost, he heard cries in the near distance. Cries that sounded awfully familiar.

With his heart beating at an alarming rate, Fred moved towards them; half thankful that at least the cries meant that George was alive. He rounded the corner and was nearly frozen in place by the sight of George on the ground against the alley wall, being beaten and taunted by a gang of Snatchers. He charged them like an angry bull, catching them completely by surprise. Scabior paused with his fist raised, slack jawed as he glared at Fred. They had no time to react however, as Fred cast a string of hexes which left them moaning and writhing on the ground. Fred looked at them with satisfaction and kicked Scabior viciously, knocking him unconscious. One of the Snatchers was holding his entrails that had been expelled from his body by the Effodio curse. Fred was shocked to see that he had used such a violent spell, but where George was concerned Fred knew that he was prepared to kill.

He quickly knelt down beside his twin to assess the damage wrought by the Snatchers. George was groaning, covered in blood. His face was close to being unrecogniseable with its mass of bruising and swelling; the angle of his nose suggested that it was broken. He quickly stopped the bleeding from the worst of the gashes, cursing the fact that he only had a rudimentary knowledge of healing spells. George was whimpering, his chest heaving as Fred realised with horror just how ill he was. He gently tilted his head to observe the crater of his left ear and pulled back trembling in fear; it was badly infected. He quickly transfigured an empty crate into a stretcher and as gently as possible lifted George onto it. "It's going to be alright Georgie", he soothed. George didn't answer, he had barely registered Fred's presence.

Fred levitated the stretcher, struggling to keep it steady as they made their way back to the shop. He came across nobody to ask for help and knew that in his condition George couldn't be apparated anywhere. Fred held George's hand the entire time, his fingers trembling. The idea of fetching a healer from St Mungo's crossed his mind, but he soon abandoned this line of contemplation, as the hospital was being closely monitored by the death eaters. They would want to know exactly how George had got such injuries. Fred realised with a shudder that if they saw them, the death eaters could bring him before the Ministry on a charge of aiding the Order in combat. It would be impossible to prove otherwise and no doubt the death eaters would seize the opportunity to provide a stark warning to the family. He cursed loudly for not modifying the Snatchers' memories, but with the state they were in he doubted that they'd remember much. He couldn't go back now, as their colourful shop front loomed in the distance. George needed help.

George was unconsciousness with beads of sweat lining his skin; he was clearly in the throes of a dangerous fever. It was with some difficulty that Fred maneuvered the stretcher up the stairs to their apartment, nearly bumping George against the banister rail in the process. _What if George never forgave him?_ He gently transferred him to the bed and removed his clothing, as George was burning up from the fever. He ran to the bathroom and grabbed a cloth and basin, filling it with water from the tip of his wand. Returning to George he attempted to reduce the fever by bathing his face and chest with the cloth. Making another trip to the bathroom, Fred took a wound healing paste from the bathroom cabinet, praying that it would be enough to deal with the many cuts and bruises and prevent them from becoming infected too. Carefully, he applied the paste to the injuries, every time he believed himself to be done more revealed themselves. His crotch was particularly bruised, Fred noted with consternation. _That must sting like hell._ With his current state of emotions Fred was hesitant to touch his twin there, but he quickly told himself that in this situation _that_ was the least important consideration. He applied the paste trying not to dwell on what he was touching. George whimpered again in pain. Fred reached to stroke his face tenderly. "I'll look after you. I'll make up for this I promise you".

Fred knew that a healing potion was needed to deal with the ear infection, without it Fred didn't want to think about what could happen, as he wiped away foul pus from the injury. His twin was still burning with the raging fever, so Fred tipped a little water into George's mouth and wiped away the droplets that dribbled down his chin. He kissed the hot forehead and drew away to leave the bedroom and begin brewing the potion. Another bruise however caught his attention and Fred leaned over his twin again, touching the tender skin on his shoulder with gentleness. Judging by the shade of purple, it was older than the rest and had not been acquired by the run in with the Snatchers. He wondered how he had got it, but the memory of their first argument hit him and Fred realised with horror that it had been him; he who had knocked him into the doorframe so violently. _What's happening to me? I hurt him..._ He backed away in shame. He couldn't look at George right now. He couldn't look at what he had done.

As if in a trance Fred collected the necessary ingredients for the potion from their store cupboard and consulted a dusty leather bound book lining one of the shelves. Yes, the twins had books; although they weren't consulted on a regular basis. The twins were far more interested in experimentation than doing things by the book. It was a difficult potion to brew and Fred could only hope that he had done it right as he stirred the mixture over a flickering orange fire. If the quantity of lacewing flies was inadequate then the potion would be dangerous rather than beneficial for George. Tentatively, he took a sip of the potion and waited for ten minutes. Nothing bad happened so he assumed that it must be safe and took it upstairs to his suffering twin.

The fever had worsened.

George was writhing on the bed and gasping for breath. He was lost in the dark where the only thing that he was aware of was the pain. Fred pulled him to his chest and sat him up to try and improve his breathing. He gently fed George the potion and exclaimed that the bottle he had poured it in was empty too quickly. He had no more. Would it be enough? It would be impossible to brew more as he had used all of the ingredients, and with the new ministry restriction enforced upon the apothecaries, he didn't fancy his chances purchasing such ingredients without arousing suspicion. George's chest stilled, he wasn't breathing. Fred placed his head to his chest and listened for a heartbeat; it was very weak. Fred was desperate to do anything he could to keep George alive until the healing potion took effect, But what if it was too late? He forced George's mouth open, there was no time for being gentle now and placed his own mouth to George's to blow air into the oxygen starved lungs. Fred couldn't help enjoying what he had briefly tasted in their laboratory. _Was it really a month ago?_

It had worked, George spluttered and took his proper breath; whilst Fred allowed the tears which had been penned up to slip down his cheeks. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and continued to stroke George's face in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

* * *

George was unconscious for days; although Fred was relived to see that the effects of the potion had taken hold and the fever was beginning to reduce. Fred had not slept at all during that length of time, choosing to keep a constant vigil by George's bedside. The shop remained closed; Fred couldn't bring himself to leave his twin in this state. Although there was nothing more he desired in that moment than for his twin to wake up, there was also a sense of apprehension that accompanied it. _What should I say to George?_ _How can I apologise without telling him what I feel?_

Fred allowed himself to become lost in his thoughts, so absorbed was he by the depressing nature of them that he nearly overlooked the flickering of George's eyelids.

"George?" Fred leaned forwards on his stool and tapped his twin's face. "Wake up Georgie...oh please wake up! Please...I'm sorry..."

"Fred?" The reply had Fred sobbing in unrestrained relief, despite the coldness in the tone that had answered him.

"You were beat up by snatchers...You had a bad fever...You've been out for days...I was so worried", Fred garbled.

George clutched his head, grimacing in pain, but turned to regard him again. "And why would you be worried about someone you don't want to be your twin anymore? I suppose you're going to accuse me of being lazy again, but I didn't ask you to nurse me."

Fred reached for him but George batted his hand away and turned towards the wall. He felt the sobs rising up in his chest; George was not going to forgive him. and he could understand why. He had a right to after the things he'd said. Fred wanted to leave the room and give in to his misery but knew that he had to try.

"And what did you expect me to do, leave you dead in the street?" He attempted to steady his voice but it was a futile effort.

George didn't answer for a moment as he inspected the many faded bruises which lined his body. He poked at some of them and winced when they stung. His fingers lingered over the one at his shoulder and he felt rather than saw Fred flinch. _Perhaps he didn't mean what he said._

"Well you didn't exactly seem to care anymore. I tried to talk to you and you just pushed me away. I needed you and you weren't there". Tears were now visible in George's eyes as he looked into Fred's equally wet ones.

"I didn't mean what I said...I really didn't...I just took things out on you...I'm so sorry George... Georgie." He glanced at his twin to gauge his reaction to using his pet name for him, expecting him to say that he had no right to call him that, but George didn't say anything. Instead he waited for his twin to explain what had happened. Fred moved to sit on the bed and reached a hand out to George; to his surprise George took it and clasped their fingers together. Fred waited for George to make another move, not expecting himself to be forgiven just like that. To his surprise George seized him in a cuddle, holding him close.

"I thought I was losing you", George mumbled; as a combination of each other's tears slipped down their faces.

"I never should have shut you out like that... I've just been so depressed and I didn't know how to deal with it". Fred mumbled back nuzzling his face against George's neck. "I don't expect you to forgive me...for what I said... for hurting you".

"Well I do", George interjected quickly. "I only half believed what you said. I'm still a little confused to be honest over what you meant though." George rubbed his hands up and down his back waiting for him to reply.

"I wish that I could tell you George, but I can't", Fred turned his head slightly away. George slipped his hands through his hair and gently pulled his face up, leaving his hands where they were.

"You can tell me anything. Whatever's been troubling you I want to know."

"I can't, I'm really sorry. I don't want us to fall out again, but I can't"; there was desperation in Fred's eyes. Disappointment flickered across George's, but he nodded resigned to the fact that they were going to have secrets from each other. A fleeting thought crossed his mind to tell Fred his own secret, but he quickly ignored it. Fred's secret was nothing like that and he didn't want to risk his disgust, not now he'd got his twin back.

"You'd want nothing to do with me if I told you, that's why I avoided you...I was ashamed", Fred admitted.

George shook his head. "Nothing you could tell me would change anything. I'd still love you whatever it was. I won't pester you again I promise, but I'm here if you ever change your mind. And I hope you do", he said softly.

"I don't want to have secrets," Fred said. "But there are some things nobody can know, not even you."

"So there's nobody else you could tell Freddie?"

Fred laughed. "No silly. If I can't tell you, I'm not exactly going to want anybody else to know."

George smiled through the tears. "No I suppose not, but that's not the only thing is it. I can tell you know." Fred nodded slipping his arms tighter around George's waist.

"I hate myself for what happened to you at the wedding; I can't get the image of you writhing on the ground out of my head. I know you've told me it wasn't my fault", he said observing George's slightly exasperated expression. "But I can't forgive myself. I really can't George. And I never will. I was supposed to look after you, not get you hurt even more!"

George's brown eyes were full of love and sympathy as he tenderly stroked Fred's cheek. "Freddie. It's ok", he said, pulling him to his chest and rocking him gently as he cried. "I understand. I'd hate myself too, but I don't blame you one bit. Besides you did look after me, didn't you?" He insisted.

"Not well enough", Fred muttered against his bare chest. "I bet you're feeling like shit George".

"Yeah", he nodded. "I still can't hear anything out my left 'ear'", he smiled, making quotation marks with his fingers. "God I bet it was disgusting".

Fred grinned. "No it wasn't particularly pleasant I can't lie, but I'd do anything for you", he touched George's cheek reverently. "How did it get like that though. Were you not taking care of yourself?"

"It's been hurting for ages. I didn't realise it was infected though."

Fred frowned. "I suppose you would have said something if I wasn't being an absolute bastard. You hide your pain well."

"Don't call yourself that", George pleaded. "Your not. What did Mum say? I know you lied when you said nothing before".

Fred swallowed, fresh tears filling his eyes. "She said...She said that you were better off without me and that...that it's always been me who gets you into trouble".

George looked both disgusted and angry. "The things that she's said to us", he muttered quietly. "She doesn't know us very well then if that's the case. I'd be lost without you, ignore what she said. You listen to what I'm telling you ok?" Fred nodded and smiled gratefully, nuzzling his chest lovingly.

"Besides", George grinned. "She's forgetting that I'm just as badass as you and many of the times we've gotten into trouble over is because of my genius ideas".

Fred grinned as he trailed a finger along George's collarbone, knowing that in that moment of reconciliation and raw emotion that he could get away with touching George intimately without suspicions being raised. He knew they'd always been physically close anyway and that George would probably consider such touching perfectly normal. He murmured his agreement and grinned again. "Yeah people think it's me who's the 'leader', but I know who's really in charge", he joked.

Fred looked down to adjust the duvet that they'd thrown back and giggled loudly. "Erm Georgie, I think we both forgot you were naked", he said pointedly. George looked down at himself and giggled too; both twins lost in the mirth that they feared they would never find again.

"Is this what you do when I'm unconscious. Strip me of my clothes", he teased.

"You were burning up", Fred giggled again.

"Ah well never mind, nothing you haven't seen before anyway", he replied, holding Fred closer to his body.

"I had to rub bruise paste on your...your...you know". They took one glance at each other and burst out laughing. "Thanks, my head's bad enough without my privates being on fire as well. Bloody Snatchers." He glanced down at Fred and was happy to observe his smile, but knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I suppose you're going to blame yourself for this too", he sighed.

"Naturally", Fred whispered.

George sighed again. "I love you, you complete and utter prat", he said affectionately.

"I love you too", Fred smiled. "I'm glad you could forgive me. I promise I won't shut you out again. We need each other now more than ever." George nodded, telling Fred that he loved him again.

"Are you scared about what could happen", George whispered.

"I've never been so scared in my entire life George".

"Me too".

They snuggled down together under the duvet after laughing Fred insisted George put some pants on. He felt happier than he had in the last two months, glad that he hadn't ruined his relationship with George, that George still loved him so much. He stroked his twin's bare back, grateful for his love; even though he wished that it could be more. He felt their bond repairing and strengthening, everything would be ok Fred told himself. Though as they lay together, it seemed nothing more than a temporary peace before the storm, as the fear within him broke surface and overwhelmed his entire being. What if one of them didn't make it through the war? The thought filled Fred with horror, but he calmed his thudding heart as he watched George sleep, his long eyelashes fluttering against his smooth cheek. He didn't want to waste whatever time they had together on such thoughts, but the sense of foreboding never left him. Outside their private haven, the war was escalating. It would not hesitate to break apart the strongest of bonds, Fred knew this and he shuddered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone who has been reading; I really appreciate your interest. I've had this story in my head for ages, still loads of chapters to come!


	13. Taboo

Fred's Pov

I lay awake staring at the ceiling; despite my sleep deprived state my overactive brain refuses to allow me rest. Georgie shuffles next to me and re-positions himself closer to me, muttering in his sleep. I nearly lost him...again and this time it cannot be denied that it was entirely my fault. I'm in love with my twin... attracted to my own brother. I'm a filthy abomination and I guess the thought of George discovering this terrified me, so I took everything out on him; all my despair, all my self disgust. On some deep level I blamed him for my feelings. If he wasn't so good natured, so caring, so funny without being offensive, if he wasn't such a beautiful spirit I wouldn't be in love with him. But he is: my Saint George. (Minus the dragon of course).

We've always been extremely close; I cannot remember a time when he wasn't there. If something was to happen to him, I know that I would lack the strength to go on without him. He's not just my brother like Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron; he's so much more than that. He's always been my support, the only person that I could truly rely on. He sees me for me rather than through the mask of jokes and pranks that we've built up around ourselves; our castle against the world. I feel the connection between us, the spark, the flow of pure energy. There is an intensity there that scares me sometimes by how strong it is. I have his heart and mind completely, but now I want more. I want his body. Where have these thoughts come from? We've always had quite a flirtatious relationship I suppose, frequently complementing each other like an old married couple. I can often read his thoughts just like he can read mine; it's no wonder that he knew something was wrong. There have never been two people in existence who are as in sync as we are, two people who understand each other so completely, two people who could not live without each other and still be the same person.

People whispered nasty things about us when we first started Hogwarts, not that at the age of 11 we truly understood what they meant. Our closeness has always astonished people; they see us as different and even slightly strange. What would people think of me if they knew the true depth of my feelings? This consciousness of people's discomfort with our closeness meant that throughout the years we've never been too openly affectionate in front of people. Our classmates saw our laughing and joking exteriors, but alone during our private time he saw my heart and we were free to innocently touch and hug without the judging stares of others. But that was nothing like this; there's never been anything sexual in my feelings towards him before, but now I want to be entirely his, so that we are truly one both body and soul, regardless of the moral implications that have been set by the society that we live in. A large proportion of whom are obsessed by blood purity; there is no place for something like this in our world.

Mum and Dad have always viewed our close relationship as unhealthy, being as reliant as we are on each other to achieve happiness. They tried to separate us when we were younger and encourage some individuality, a life outside of the other. We've never had many close friends really apart from Lee Jordan and to be honest we haven't seen him for a while; all we've ever needed is each other. We are not for separating and resisted all their attempts to do so, through temper tantrums when we were younger to point blank refusal when Mum suggested that we start spending some time apart with other people; that we don't need to always be each other's best friend. If he's not in the room though I worry, I have to have him right beside me so that the fear cannot play tricks on my mind; the fear that's always there.

Perhaps our parents were worried that we'd end up clones of one another, but they were wrong. We are two different personalities, two parts of a whole. When I look at him, at that wonderful person, I do not see myself: I see George. I think that at this moment I'm as far from narcissism as a person can possibly get, my love for him is certainly not a product of my love for myself. I don't think I'll ever be able to like myself again, let alone love. No. I can never love myself for the pain that I've caused him, for the hurt that I saw flash across his face. I cannot quite believe that I voiced my thoughts like that, but at least he remains oblivious to what I am feeling. I told him that I wished we weren't twins, because then we could be together without the incest taboo being attached to us, but it would still be a relationship to be frowned upon. It may be October 1997, but people aren't too friendly towards people engaged in homosexual relationships. Besides, it was a stupid thing to say, if we weren't related we wouldn't have been able to spend our whole lives together, share every childhood experience, every happy memory; no I would not trade those things for this.

What do I do? What do I do? If he ever finds out I won't have a reason to live anymore. He'll want nothing to do with someone as messed up as me, no one will. I could perhaps get over the insults of others, but to see the repulsion in his eyes would kill me inside. There is the possibility of course that given his kind nature he would not reject me, but at the very least the closeness between us would vanish. He'd feel uncomfortable touching me, thinking that every hug would be something sexual for me and I need his touch... so much. I feel like shit, I hate every inch of myself for these thoughts. Why did I have to go and ruin a twin relationship that was so perfect and full of happiness? But I often listen to the voice inside of me that says these feelings are the entity to make our relationship perfect. We'd be beautiful together, my treacherous mind whispers to me constantly. And we would; when the fear of discovery and rejection consumes me I allow myself to indulge in the illusion of us being together. I wake feeling bitterly disappointed that it was only a dream and like most dreams impossible to become reality. I deluded myself a month ago that he might too have these feelings; after all we've always agreed on most things, but how could I ever have thought he could feel the same? I don't know quite what I was expecting when I briefly kissed him in our laboratory, for him to snog me back? The look of bewilderment on his face though was priceless; he was probably expecting me to go for the cheek, but at least he didn't become suspicious. What the hell was I thinking? Never again will I try something so stupid, but that's easier thought than done; I've always been the one to take risks. But then I think of that night George was drunk, before we found the death eaters trashing our shop; he was leaning in towards me. No. He was simply drunk, that was it, just drunk, he had no idea what he was doing. I'm going to go mad if I keep thinking about these feelings, but I know I cannot lock them away in my heart and forget about them...because I don't want to.

George shuffles beside me again and I run my fingers through his fiery strands of hair, relieved that his face is not quite the mass of swelling that it was a few days ago, but it's still bad enough. I still can't believe I was so violent towards the Snatchers; I could have killed one of them and have that to add to the burdens piling up on my soul. What would I be without George? There's an anger inside of me that I can feel sometimes, without his restraining influence, without him telling me when I've gone too far, without him carefully ensuring that our pranks could cause no serious hurt to someone, I'd be a different person; one that I imagine people wouldn't like very much.

I continue to watch him sleep. I like watching him sleep, an ethereal glow seems to envelop his features and I'm drawn in by the peaceful smile lining his beloved face. Anger always fills me when I catch sight of the mangled remains of his left ear, when I see Snape and I will see Snape I have promised myself this; he's going to regret nearly taking my twin from me. The ruined flesh doesn't repulse me though, as I gently stroke around the site of the ruined ear; damn I should have bandaged it. I slip from underneath the covers, dislodging George's arm from my waist without disturbing him and fetch a roll of bandage from the bathroom cabinet. Looks like George is going to be stuck with the hippy look again for a while, well it did make him look rather dashing. Once I've applied the bandage deftly without waking him, his torso catches my eye; I don't know why it didn't before. He's so thin, he couldn't have gotten this thin from three days with no food; he mustn't have been eating properly before. Not that I have either really, we haven't ate at the kitchen table together for weeks so I have no idea what he's been eating. I still cannot believe what I have done as I trail a finger along his chest, feeling the ribs prominent under the pad of skin, making me feel sick to my core to see the damage that my disgusting feelings have wrought.

One beautiful brown eye opens and he watches me examining him. "Mooooorning", he says in that deep sexy voice that he loves to put on, the tone that makes me squirm in my skin and want to kiss him and tell him just how much I love him; instead I grin and say good morning back.

"I think you'd win the prize for world's sexiest morning you know", I smile.

He winks at me and laughs. "I don't know, I've got some competition with that soft voice of yours". I smile, our voices have given us away many times when we've pretended to be each other, but despite the difference in pitch we have a very similar tone so that when we speak at the same time our voices mould together perfectly.

"You haven't been eating properly", I say, my voice stern.

He shrugs. "Food made me want to throw up".

"Well try and eat something today...for me; I'll make you some toast", I pleaded. He nods and then his shoulders shake slightly and he smiles widely displaying neat, even white teeth. That movement of the shoulders is my favourite mannerism of his, that hint of mischief makes him look adorable; I love every little detail about him.

"Thanks Fred, but won't your cooking make me sicker", he teases.

"Hey! My breakfast making skills are perfectly adequate", I grin back.

George's smile widens. "Yes, it's just dinner that you like to experiment with". He pretends to shudder slightly from the memory of the stew that I made which frankly tasted like old feet; if I hadn't told him it was fine to leave it Saint Georgie would have ate every disgusting mouthful in an effort not to offend me.

"How are you feeling", I inquire.

"Like somebody is constantly whacking me around the head with a hammer". I reached to stroke his forehead, astonished that he was able to smile and joke in spite of the pain, but then it had always been typical of George to do so.

"It must be driving you crazy". He sees the concern in my eyes and attempts to make light of his pain.

"Well it is getting a tadge annoying now", he replied evenly.

"Stay in bed and rest. I'll brew you a restorative draught and see if that helps". I moved to get out of bed and make him some toast, determined to force feed him if necessary. However, he stopped me by grabbing my wrist gently.

"Don't open the shop today. You look like you haven't slept at all, you're going to kill yourself," he said, his tone absent of humour.

I rubbed my eyes knowing that he was right, as I felt the bags under them; I felt ready to drop from exhaustion, but stubbornly raised myself from the bed to make us some food. George muttered a protest but he had no energy to stop me.

Climbing the stairs with the plate of toast felt like scaling Mount Everest; a sorry state of affairs I mused, remembering wistfully when we'd both been strong and fit from years of batting bludgers. I stopped at the top, clutching my sides and taking sharp breaths, before crossing the threshold into our room, which had never looked so dark and dingy.

"We've both looked better", I said as I crossed the room to him.

He grinned, "we've smelt better too. When was the last time you showered Fred?"

"About the same time you did Mister", as the scent of fever induced sweat wafted up my nostrils.

George wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, I smell. My mission today is to have a shower", he said wryly.

"Aim big", I laughed. "I think I'll join you".

"In the shower", he teased.

I blushed crimson. "Obviously not when your in it, I meant after", I said quickly as I handed him a piece of toast. George nibbled at it and pulled a face; I knew how he felt, food had never seemed so unappetising.

"Well I may need your help...if you don't mind that it is. My limbs don't feel like they belong to me."

"Sure no problem Georgie", but internally I was fretting, knowing that the sight of him in the shower would arouse my feelings for him.

Once we'd finished the toast, which considering that we were both nibbling at it like rabbits took an age, I helped him through to the bathroom. I felt better on a full stomach, but my eyes drooped and I had to fight the urge to fall asleep then and there. George slipped out of his boxers and I had to avert my gaze as I helped him into the shower. I kept my hands firmly on his waist to prevent him from falling, as the warm water cascaded over his sore body. He winced slightly as the pressurised water hit some of the more tender spots, but I noted with satisfaction that my regular application of the bruise paste had started to heal the injuries quite nicely: hopefully he wouldn't be left with any scars, physical ones at least. George said that he forgave me, but the hurt had not quite left his eyes. I gently washed his back, pausing with raised eyebrows when I heard him murmur slightly.

"Feels nice", he muttered, clearly embarrassed.

I chuckled. "Makes a change from everything hurting then", I said as I repeated the motion of rubbing the sponge against his skin in small circles; he murmured again. Suddenly filled with daring I substituted the sponge for my hands and massaged his aching shoulders.

"Ah Fred", he gasped. How I wanted to caress every inch of that beautiful body and fill him with pleasure, but I stopped before I went too far and ruined everything; he flexed his shoulders and turned to smile at me.

"Thanks, that's much better", he said.

"Your welcome", I replied, picking up the shampoo bottle to wash his hair. However, before I could open it he grasped my wrist and pulled me into the shower with him. It wasn't exactly small, but I was still aware of his body so close to mine.

"Do you normally shower in your pants Freddie?" He grinned and turned back to the shower hose, leaving me attempting to interpret the signals that he was sending me. We haven't shared a shower or bath since we were ten; by that point Mum was adamant that we were too old to continue to do so; could this mean that he...No, I'm going mad thinking like this, trying to see signs in everything he does that he loves me in the same way that I do. No, he just wants to be near me after everything that's happened. I kicked my boxers off and deposited them on the bathroom floor, whilst George began to hum. His mood was infectious and despite my deep pit of worries he lifted my spirit and I splashed him playfully.

"You did say that you wanted to join me", he flirted.

"I don't know what you're worrying about you know. If you flirted like that with a girl she'd be yours", I laughed.

"Nah, it's more fun flirting with you Freddie". It couldn't be denied that in some ways George had crossed the line with me, people would be disgusted to see how intimate we have become, but he was several steps behind me and those were the widest ones of them all. There was no hope that he would jump them and join me; he seemed happy where he was; between twins and becoming that something more. Ignoring these thoughts I playfully splashed him again and we giggled like the little boys we once were, making a mess at bathtime, but I was all too aware that whilst George no doubt saw our shower session in that way that for me there was nothing innocent about it. I want him.

I stare out of the shop window hoping to see a string of customers coming to pick up some tricks ready for Halloween, but the alley is empty. Business has actually picked up this last few weeks though; it seems that people are trying to put on brave faces and go about their daily business in spite of the war. I too put on a face, as the smile that's painted on never quite reaches my eyes anymore. George knows that it's fake, but like he said he's stopped asking me what's wrong; I feel guilty seeing the concern that is often etched across his features but I cannot completely open up to him. In a way it's almost like we never argued as we're closer than ever before, apart from the one thing that I cannot bring myself to tell him. George's health has thankfully since improved, the headaches have lessened in their intensity, but he seems reluctant to remove the bandage even though he doesn't really need it anymore. I need to speak to him about that again; that beautiful creature cannot let the shallowness of others make him feel the need to hide his battle scars.

I'm drowning deeper and deeper in my depressing thoughts and my self loathing, unable to climb out of the dark pit that I have become trapped in. I excuse myself on the pretence of needing the toilet and sit on the towel ottoman, drawing out my wand I point it at my arm and whisper a spell. Instantly, a cut two inches long embeds itself into my flesh with a sharp stab of pain. I like the pain; I deserve it, for my disgusting thoughts I think, as I mutter the spell again. For hurting George... a third cut appears on my arm and I examine the damage with satisfaction...I deserve it.


	14. Old Friends

Fred looked down at the fresh cuts which he had formed on his arms with pure satisfaction; if he hurt himself he could bear the weight of the emotions that were threatening to crush him. He quickly pulled down his shirt sleeve as he heard the sounds of George's footsteps coming closer; his twin couldn't see what he was doing to himself, it would tear at his heart to see Fred's pain.

"Happy Halloween Fred", George smiled as he entered the shop floor, bearing an armful of Halloween decorations. "Help me put these up would you?"

Fred grinned, but when George turned his back he checked that the mask which he wore was still firmly in place. Together the twins hung up fake spiders and carved faces into enormous orange pumpkins, setting them aglow with balls of light which they suspended inside the lanterns. George stepped back to observe their handiwork with pride and turned to smile at Fred. "Looks quite festive doesn't it?"

Fred nodded and smiled back, "now we just need to look the part, though if we make you look anymore scary we might give some of our customers heart attacks", he jested.

George snorted, "remember when we thought we actually had a dead customer on our hands?"

Fred laughed remembering when an old lady had been perusing their display of fake wands and had suddenly collapsed. "Yeah, it wouldn't have been good for business, but she was a sturdy old thing wasn't she. So what do you fancy for our second Halloween here, I was thinking vampires".

"Wicked", George grinned. "Girls will be begging you to bite them", he said.

"Oh no handsome, they'll be wanting to join you in immortality", Fred flirted back. "Imagine if Voldemort managed to make himself immortal", he contemplated fearfully.

"The world would be fucked", George replied bluntly. "Shame we can't be immortal though then I wouldn't need to worry about you so much".

"Our Boggart would have to find another form", Fred said quietly. George put down the box of remaining decorations on the counter and slipped his arms around Fred's waist from behind, pressing his chin to his shoulder. Warmth immediately spread through Fred's body as George pressed against him, he held tightly to the arms that had snaked closely around him and murmured contentedly; they stood like that for several minutes until George pressed a kiss to the side of his neck and drew away from him.

"Perhaps Mum shouting at us", George suggested.

"Perhaps", but Fred knew that his Boggart would always be losing George, if not to death then as a result of his taboo feelings for his twin.

"Come on then, let's go and make ourselves more vampiric", George grinned, grabbing his twin's hand and leading him up the stairs to their flat. He pulled out a box from underneath his bed which contained their black dress robes from the Yule Ball; Fred thought back to that evening nearly three years ago, he couldn't believe that it had been so long ago. Although he'd enjoyed the evening, he couldn't help but imagine if he had took George to the ball rather than Angelina.

"These should still just about fit us," George's voice broke through his twin's daydreams. "We'd already got to six foot by then and Mum had brought them three inches too long".

Fred smiled as he took what may have been his robe or George's from his twin and unfolded it. "Our grow spurts were Mum's worst nightmare".

George chuckled and stood up, brushing the dust from his jeans. "I know a charm we could use to grow us some fangs."

"As long as it doesn't go wrong and leave us stuck with extra pointy teeth", Fred smiled.

"When have I ever lead you wrong Freddie?"

"Never", Fred replied smiling; throughout the years George's plans had always been well thought out and crafted down to the smallest detail while Fred still had a tendency to rush into things. George approached Fred with his wand held out and pointed it at his twin's mouth, making his canines sharpen and grow another inch. Fred examined his reflection in the mirror and laughed.

"I think I look more stupid than scary", he said grabbing George by the shoulder and pretending to bite his neck. He drew out his own wand and repeated the spell for his twin.

"Well these are a little uncomfortable, I can't close my mouth properly", George said as he attempted to close his lips over the fangs. "We'd better get a move on, the shop opens in ten", he added, as he began to strip off his shirt and pull on the dress robes.

Fred nodded and drew his fingers to his shirt buttons but paused remembering the state that he had left his arms in. "One min George, just need to use the loo", he called over his shoulder as he beat a hasty retreat. Closing the bathroom door he rolled his sleeves up and healed the cuts, leaving the skin as smooth as before. He fought the urge to inflict new ones, biting his lip to repress what had quickly become instinct whenever he thought of the hurt that he'd caused.

"Come on Fred", his twin called from the bedroom. Fred emerged and crossed over to their room which was shrouded in darkness. "George?" There was no answer, as Fred felt around for the light, nearly tripping over the box which had not been pushed back under the bed. Suddenly, he was pushed backwards onto his bed and pinned down; Fred laughed and attempted to free himself from his twin's grip.

"I vont your blood", George drawled in a Romanian accent.

"You already had some your holiness", Fred giggled, drawing out his wand again and muttering _lumos._ He started at the figure revealed by the light; George had paled his skin and there were dark shadows surrounding his eyes. He grinned, revealing his elongated teeth as he dived in towards Fred's neck, nuzzling his skin with his nose rather than sinking in his sharp fangs. Fred smiled at the loving gesture and slipped a hand through George's short ginger locks. George raised his face from Fred's neck and trailed a finger along his cheek affectionately, "so do I look scary?"

"Terrifying", Fred grinned. "Although Georgie, I don't think that Vampires need bandages", he said looking pointedly at the white linen bandage that was still wrapped around George's head. George drew further back frowning and shook his head, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he always did when agitated.

"No...I think I still need it. You know, to stop it from getting infected again," he countered.

"George, it won't if we make sure it gets washed out properly every day," Fred insisted. He saw the embarrassment in George's dark brown eyes. "What's wrong, why don't you want to take it off? You can't go around wearing a bandage forever mate", he said attempting to maintain a light-hearted tone.

"When...When we weren't... well talking", George said avoiding Fred's eyes, as Fred remembered their argument with a pang. "I went for a walk and the alley was more packed than it had been for ages, every single person I walked past stared like I was completely disfigured or something; one girl that I tried to talk to just walked away from me laughing." He shuddered, "I've never felt so awkward and uncomfortable in my entire life Fred". His twin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gently unwrapped the bandage from his head exposing the scar tissue , but to his surprise George didn't resist; although the slumped shoulders and the way that he hung his head filled Fred with sadness.

"I wish that I could stop them George I really do, but their laughter will mean nothing as long as you don't let it get to you", Fred said gently.

"I already have", came the quiet reply. Fred drew his arms around his shoulders ignoring the fact that they were now late for their shop opening.

"I shouldn't have kept calling you your holiness, I'm sorry Georgie". George's head jumped up from where he had laid it against Fred's shoulder and he shook his head rapidly.

"Oh Fred, I like you calling me that, it's touching because I know you're not saying it because you think I look ugly or something, it was that awful joke I made", he smiled.

Fred shook his head smiling too, "Not just that Georgie, but because with your wonderful personality you really are the holy twin."

George smiled with true joy to hear Fred's loving words and he reached to caress Fred's cheek. "I love you mister, but just you remember you're not the unholy twin."

"I love you too", Fred replied tenderly, as he rushed to pull on his own dress robes and allowed George to pale him up so that they both looked the part. "I think the fanged Frisbees will sell well today", he added with a cheeky grin.

The twins descended the stairs two at a time and went to open up shop, both surprised and delighted to see that for the first time in a while there was a queue of people waiting outside for them to open, despite the two hooded figures that had remained a fairly constant presence since the Weasley family had been placed under surveillance. Feeling particularly bold one evening, Fred had yelled across the street inviting them in as they must be getting quite cold standing there, before laughing and slamming the door. George had been sure that their shop would get trashed again in retaliation, but perhaps the death eaters had finally seen the humour.

"Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Halloween spectacular-

We've got all sorts so you can give your mates a scare they won't forget in a hurry", Fred finished, as their customers laughed at their vampire get up. The twins exchanged glances and laughed too, knowing that really they looked ridiculous rather than terrifying. Fred waved cheerily at the death eaters watching the shop with their hoods casting their faces in shadow. "Happy Halloween", he added cheekily as he waved the line of customers inside.

Business boomed all day, reminding the twins of how the shop had been when they'd first opened; its happy atmosphere seemed restored, as if everybody had temporarily forgotten about the war. The twins were satisfied to hear the constant clinking of the till opening and closing as it was filled with galleons, sickles and knuts. Fred wiped the sweat away from his forehead as he helped a customer pack up their purchases, it was hard work keeping the shop going themselves he thought. After the busiest day they'd had in months the twins were slumped against the counter exhausted but relieved to see that the till was full to bursting; they'd be able to make the final payments to their investors after all. George moved to open the till and count their takings for the day when the charm that they'd put on the door alerted themselves to a presence.

"We're closed", Fred called in the direction of the door, as he began to help George count their takings; it would be nice to hear a chink in their pockets again as they walked.

"Is that anyway to greet an old friend", Lee Jordan chuckled, as he entered the shop and marvelled at the Halloween decorations which were still hung up, before catching sight of the twins in their costumes and letting out a hearty guffaw.

"Long time no see, but you two are still the buffoons that I remember", Lee chuckled.

"It's a shame we haven't had much opportunity to catch up mate", George said as he came forward to hug Lee, followed by Fred; both twins dwarfed their friend and he had to crane his neck to look up at them.

"Yeah, it's my fault really, you've asked me about hanging out loads of times", he grinned. "Thanks for the skiving snackboxes you sent me, they got me out of writing that Quiditch report".

"Why'd you want to anyway, you love your commentating", Fred asked curiously.

"Oh, Angelina finally said yes to us going out. I hope you didn't mind mate", he said turning to look at Fred. "Anyway it didn't last very long, she broke up with me after a week"; he said his expression glum.

"Why would I mind, we were never really properly going out Lee. It was only a couple of dates after all", Fred said, drawing out his wand and reducing his and George's teeth back to their normal size.

"I thought you might still fancy her", Lee chuckled, as he examined their newest product. "What are these George?"

George had turned away from their conversation to fiddle with one of their displays, no matter how hard he tried he could never banish the jealous feelings that sprung up whenever Fred and Angelina were spoken of as a couple.

"They're cheering chocolates, you can try one for free if you want", he replied distractedly, allowing himself to think about how Fred had briefly kissed him when they'd been making them. He'd never asked his twin if he and Angelina had kissed on those dates, he supposed that they must have done, filling him with feelings towards Angelina that were far from friendly.

"I'm sorry about your ear George", Lee interjected suddenly, his gaze resting on the side of George's head.

"Well it could have been worse", George muttered; he saw Lee scrutinising him and realised that he must be acting oddly, but to his relief Fred changed the line of conversation.

"How have you been then with the war and everything".

Lee shrugged, "It's almost like there isn't one, apart from the Quiditch League being cancelled and everybody shuffling around terrified. I suppose you two have been caught up in it with being in the Order; I should have joined really but my Mum refused to let me. I'd come to ask if you wanted to come out for dinner in November sometime. Angelina, Alicia, Katie and Oliver Wood have already agreed to; it would be a nice little reunion don't you think?"

Fred made eye contact with George, reading in his face that he was hesitant to do so; Fred himself felt reluctant to go with his current turmoil of emotions he wasn't feeling particularly sociable, they might notice that he wasn't himself and start asking awkward questions. George however didn't want to hurt Lee and nodded. "Sure why not". Fred nodded too, realising with panic that they'd expect him to be his usual entertaining self; they had no idea of the changes that had occurred in him and Fred wasn't feeling funny in the slightest.

"Awesome, I'll send you an owl with the time and stuff", Lee beamed, as he waved and left; the door telling him to make sure that he'd paid for his purchases or he'd be jinxed. This made him pause and look back at the twins who laughed.

"You'd be surprised how many people try to nick things from us", Fred grinned. "There's no jinx really Lee."

Once Lee had left Fred turned to his twin who had begun counting the money again, his brow creased in concentration.

"Are you sure you're well enough to go George", Fred rested a hand on his shoulder, the muscles felt tense and knotted.

"Yes I'm fine now Fred, the headaches aren't as bad as they were." George hated how weak and self conscious the injury made him feel, although he was incredibly grateful for Fred's consideration, he couldn't deny that it stung his pride.

"I wish you didn't have them at all", Fred sighed and handed him the money bags. "Shall we both go to the meeting with the investors tomorrow and just open the shop for half a day?"

Fred expected him to agree, as personally he couldn't bear the thought of being apart from him for any length of time but to his dismay George shook his head.

"No, we need to keep the shop open, we need every customer through the door that we can get. I don't like it either you know", he said observing Fred's expression to his reply; "but we're going to have to get used to it I suppose".

Fred nodded, but inside he was thinking why should we get used to it; if they didn't want to be apart then why force themselves to act like normal brothers, just because people would think it was strange for two nineteen year old men to never be out of each other's company. The old defiance to rules and conventions was once again coursing through Fred's veins, he wasn't going to care what the world thought of his feelings; the world would just have to keep its dictatorial opinions to itself. What he did care about was George's reaction and he hadn't quite achieved the level of confidence required to reveal all to his twin. Fred doubted whether he ever would; he had too much to lose, the friendship, the laughs, the pranks and the love. Although Fred had taken many risks in the past, this was a gamble that the elder Weasley twin was unwilling to make.

* * *

Dusk lengthened the shadows of the buildings lining the main road into Hogsmeade, where the Weasley twins were waiting outside The Three Broomsticks for their friends. Only a few passers by could be seen hurrying along the lanes of Britain's sole all wizarding community, with the war going on nobody lingered or took their time anymore, rather choosing to seek the illusion of the security to be found in their homes. The twins however had reason to know that nowhere was truly safe as long as Voldemort had control over the Ministry and remained undefeated.

"If they don't show up in a minute we'll go inside", Fred told his twin who nodded and stamped his feet against the autumnal cold that made itself felt inside his very bones. It wasn't safe standing out in the open where they presented two easy targets for those lurking in the shadows. Fred patted the back of his jeans where his wand was concealed in an effort to reassure himself and moved closer to his twin so that their shoulders were bumping together.

"It's bloody freezing", George muttered, his breath visible in the air as he spoke.

Fred moved to tug George into the warmth so that he wouldn't catch cold and become ill again, when the sounds of laughter could be heard in the near distance. The twins looked down the street to see their old Quiditch team apart from Harry along with Lee Jordan approaching them.

"Hi guys", Alicia, Lee and Katie greeted them.

"Getting into more mischief I suppose", Oliver Wood added.

Fred grinned, "you could say that". George nodded beside him smiling, glad that Fred seemed willing to do most of the talking.

Angelina stepped past Alicia to place herself in Fred's direct view, she was wearing a knee length purple dress under a denim jacket and was smiling widely at Fred. "Hi Fred", her voice was soft, as she attempted to attract his attention.

"Hey Angie", he replied smiling back, as Lee winked at him suggestively from behind her view.

"It's been a while eh", she said directing the question at Fred and still overlooking his twin's presence. She placed a hand on her hip and smiled widely showing the whites of her teeth, whilst Katie and Alicia giggled behind her.

"Er you look nice Angelina", Fred gave her the complement she was seeking and smiled awkwardly, wondering if she was going to acknowledge George's presence at all that evening. It irked him considerably when she did that and was one of the reasons why he'd never asked her out on a third date and made it official; if he had she would have tried to persuade him to stop hanging around with his twin all the time. If Angelina knew him at all, then she should have realised that snubbing George was not the way to get into his affections, praying that they could all enjoy themselves without any awkwardness. He had made it clear to Angelina that he just wanted them to be friends but had a feeling that she wasn't content to leave things at that.

"George and I have been doing some work for the Order", Fred said leading the conversation as they walked inside to find a table in an effort to force her to acknowledge George. Angelina merely nodded at him and stepped between the twins slipping an arm through Fred's and pushing him gently into a seat next to her, with Alicia Spinnet sitting down on his other side; leaving George to take a seat further along the table out of easy speaking distance with his twin. George's expression was carefully moulded into a polite smile, but Fred could tell that he was offended by her attitude towards him. Fred had never understood what Angelina's problem with George was, they'd always got on really well until he and Angelina had broken things off; part of him suspected that she blamed his twin in some way. She couldn't have been further from the truth, George had never tried to persuade him against dating her, but had been as supportive as ever despite Fred's gut feeling that he hadn't been overly fond of the time Fred had spent away from him with Angelina. Fred imagined that Angelina's hostility towards George would only increase should she ever suspect that his love for his twin made him disinterested in her in the romantic sense.

"Can you believe that they've cancelled Quiditch", Oliver said clearly outraged, as Fred resumed his attention on the conversation. George stifled a laugh, Oliver's love of the sport had always bordered on obsession.

"Well there is a war on Ol", George smiled.

"Yeah, but whenever something happens why do they have to cancel it", he insisted. "It's like when we couldn't play at school that time because of some stupid great snake slithering around the castle."

"Safety first", Fred smiled as everyone apart from George started at his words.

"Who are you an what have you done with Fred Weasley", Lee chuckled.

Fred shrugged his shoulders. "I've always been concerned about not going too far as a matter of fact", he replied, thinking about how he'd always fretted over George's safety.

"Well you two have changed", Alicia exclaimed. She picked up a menu and began to peruse the dishes on offer, looking up she glanced at George and then stared, noticing for the first time that he was missing an ear; the menu dropped out of her hands making everyone look up from where they'd been reading their own menus.

"George! What happened to your ear", she exclaimed in shock. George suppressed a sigh, it had been too much to hope that his altered appearance wouldn't make interesting conversation, but he thought that it was about time that he started exploiting the joke potential from the injury.

"What? It should be right here", he said, clamping a hand to the side of his head. "It's gone!"

Fred smiled at him, glad to see that George had taken his advice about the injury. "Fighting for the Order", he said, launching into the story of Harry's escape from Privet Drive and making sure that George sounded as heroic as possible in a bid to impress Angelina. However, rather than gasping over the story in awe as he had hoped she looked from Fred to George and smiled at George in a condescending manner.

"Looks like you're definitely the best looking one now Fred", she said snidely. The smile instantly vanished from George's face and he picked his menu back up from the table, raising it to his face.

"So I guess you're deaf in one ear then George", she asked pointedly. Fred wanted to bang his head against the table in frustration; she was using even less subtly than Ron usually employed.

She smiled nastily seeing how uncomfortable she had made him. "No, the ear drum is still intact, just if people are speaking quietly I sometimes struggle to make out what they're saying if they're standing on that side of me."

The evening wore on and Fred felt himself growing more and more annoyed with Angelina, as she constantly snubbed George and interrupted him when he tried to speak, especially to his twin. George was feeling left out with Angelina and Alicia keeping Fred engaged and Oliver, Katie and Lee immersed in their own conversation; he couldn't help but feel invisible. He'd thought that it might be fun to see their old friends but he guessed that they must have only asked him because they wanted Fred to come. Seeing Angelina flirting with Fred aroused jealousy so strong that he felt ashamed of himself. He knew that if Angelina had her way tonight her and Fred would be dating again and with his newfound shame for Fred he didn't think that he'd be able to stand her trying to come between them. Considering that she didn't seem to like him, it would be inevitable that the time he got to spend with his twin would be significantly reduced. Sadness engulfed him. He'd accepted that he could never be with Fred, but he couldn't accept losing him to Angelina who hadn't wasted a single opportunity to throw him triumphant looks.

"Fred, when is that..." He had tried to crane his head around Alicia to make eye contact with Fred, but she shifted her position to block his view. _It seems like it's a team effort then so Angelina can have his full attention._

"Oooh Fred you look good in that shirt you're wearing", she said, moving his jacket to the side so she could look at it properly.

"Thanks, George must look good too then", he responded dryly, as they were both wearing the same shirt, but with jackets in complementary colours.

"You still wear the same clothes", she stated in a disparaging tone. "Don't you think you're a bit old for that now Fred, I mean sure it was cute when you were younger but you should really develop your own style. I could help you pick out some things that would look good on _you_."

"Oh, are there some clothes that don't suit people with one ear Angelina?" George's voice was strongly laced with sarcasm as he was getting fed up of her constant digs.

Angelina ignored the remark but Fred laughed and tilted his chair backwards so that they could make eye contact. "Georgie you look good in anything", he smiled. George read in his eyes an unspoken apology for Angelina's behavior, but George shook his head at him slightly in a way that said _don't be silly it's not your fault._

 _"_ We don't always wear the same thing no, but when we don't its normally just in different colours", Fred smiled, but he felt defensive as he realised that people would think their similar attire strange now they were adults.

Angelina stood up and extended her hand to Fred. "Come and get another drink with me honey", to Fred it sounded more like a command than a question. Nevertheless, he stood up and took her offered hand, determined to question her about her behavior towards George, who watched them go resentfully. Angelina ordered them two butterbeers and looked at Fred expectantly; as if programmed to do so he reached into his pocket for money.

"Make it three", he said to Madame Rosmerta. "George's glass has been empty for a while", he said in response to Angelina's raised eyebrows. She frowned at the answer draining away the last of Fred's patience. What right did she think she had to treat his twin like a piece of filth she'd stepped in? A bartender placed their drinks in front of them, Fred picked his up clutching the glass tightly in an effort to quell his temper.

"Something the matter Fred honey?" Fred glared at her, but Angelina stood firm under a stare that many others would have wilted under. A stare that looked out of place on Fred's soft and usually smiling features.

"Yeah your attitude towards George. You used to get on well with him and then suddenly you started behaving towards him like he wasn't even there. He doesn't deserve to be treated like that by anyone, especially not by somebody who's technically supposed to be his friend."

Angelina bit her lip looking mildly guilty, but in Fred's opinion nowhere guilty enough. "Well then he shouldn't try to control you all the time should he?"

Fred looked astounded at what he was hearing. "George, control me? Our relationship isn't like that, it's...equal".

"Yes he does, we dated a few times in our last year at Hogwarts and then you refused to go on another one because I know he told you not to!" Angelina's dark eyes were now also flashing in anger.

"Don't blame George just because things didn't work out, it was never anything serious anyway; a couple of dates and that was it".

"He was clearly jealous", Angelina spat. "He's probably always been jealous of you, because you're everybody's favorite Weasley twin".

Fred shook his head in exasperation. "Why are you doing this? Look I broke things off with you because I wasn't ready for a serious relationship". However, he had only partially told her the truth, he hadn't been ready or willing to move on from his twin to start leading an individual life and now two years later, he knew that he never would be.

Angelina smiled then and Fred knew what was coming; but he couldn't avoid this forever, it wouldn't be fair for her to hold hope for them as a couple. "I see", she said softly. "I see now that it wasn't really George's fault, I'll apologise to him". Fred nodded stiffly, but he was far from forgiving her.

"So handsome, what about a date next Saturday?" Her voice was seductive and Fred felt unusually lost for words.

"No", he replied bluntly.

"What do you mean no?"

"Angelina I don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry, I really am. Find yourself somebody, you deserve it. You're a great person, well most of the time, but I can't pretend to have feelings that I don't have. Wouldn't you prefer me to be honest with you?" Fred eyes appealed to her to see reason, but Angelina was full of wounded pride and simmering rage.

"You're a bastard. Leading me on all this time; I suppose you thought it was funny. I bet you've laughed about it with _him_ haven't you?" Fred shook his head and clutched the full glass tighter. He glanced across at the table and saw the others watching their confrontation, Lee and Oliver looking amused, Alicia and Katie staring at him accusingly and George... George was looking guilty, he briefly met his twin's eyes from across the room and quickly looked down at the table. _Oh Georgie._

"I've done no such thing", he said quietly, having lost the will to argue; he had enough to deal with without this as well. "You saw something that was never there and I'm really sorry Angelina, nothing about this is funny to me. Nothing is funny anymore." He walked away from her then, leaving her to gape angrily after him. He drew a chair up to George and handed him the glass of butterbear. George met his gaze with the silent question _are you ok_ , in his chocolate brown orbs. Fred shook his head briefly, fighting back the tears that were brimming up in his eyes; whilst underneath the table George rested a hand on his knee in comfort.

Alicia and Katie got up to join Angelina at the bar and the three of them left without saying goodbye to the twins.

"Gee mate I think you pissed her off. Maybe she'll have me back", Lee said hopefully.

After another ten minutes the twins said goodbye to Lee and Oliver; the latter of whom was giggling from having had too much to drink. In silence, they left the pub and walked a short distance up the lane. Fred's heart felt heavy as the spat with Angelina was added to the weight upon his conscience, as he felt that she wouldn't have behaved so unreasonably if he hadn't been in some way responsible. He held George's wrist as he apparated them to their shop and they walked up the stairs to their apartment. Fred sat down heavily on his bed and rested his head on his hand, feeling the bed dip slightly as George sat down next to him and placed an arm around his shoulders. Fred told him everything that she had said and waited for him to speak.

"Well she was partially right. I was... jealous about you getting a girlfriend because...I thought you'd spend less time with me", George admitted softly. "I'm sorry Fred".

Fred drew George close to him and tipped his head up so that their eyes met. "Well you didn't show it Georgie, no this was my fault. I should have been more clear with her. Everything's always my fault", he allowed a single tear to fall, but quickly wiped it away. "I thought you wanted a girlfriend anyway George".

His twin shook his head rapidly. "No, I only wanted one because I thought you did. Really I hated the thought of us separating from each other".

Fred smiled then and rubbed George's arms affectionately. "We're both idiots aren't we? Normally we're completely open with each other and don't end up in this sort of mess."

"Things have been difficult lately", George said heavily. "But we're all right aren't we Fred?"

"Of course we are, I just don't want things to change. No girl could accept being a second in my life, could never understand that you'll always be the most important person to me. I'll always love you more than anyone else." Fred reached a hand to touch his cheek, sorely tempted to confess everything then and there, why he'd closed himself off, why he hadn't been completely open with him. He could sense too that there were things that George hadn't told him, but closed his lips tightly; his abnormal feelings were going to remain an invisible barrier between them. As Fred drifted off to sleep that night, he thought that no George everything isn't alright. _I'm not ok. I feel lost_. He fell asleep with tears lining his cheeks, completely devoid of all hope.


	15. Light In The Darkness

Over the following weeks Fred began to wonder whether he should have agreed to going on a date with Angelina; despite his feelings for his twin. After all he reasoned, _if I truly love him_ _then I should let him go and want him to be happy,_ but George had confessed that he liked things as they were. Fred smiled at the thought; _he wants to stay with me forever_. Their Mother wasn't going to be too impressed however that she wouldn't be getting any children out of her seemingly asexual twin sons. But what if George changed his mind? If he met somebody that would be it, George would be snatched away from him and Fred left alone with feelings that he had never shared with his twin. He had sounded sincere, almost pained when he had confided that he hated the thought of them ever separating from each other, but for Fred this wasn't enough. He wanted George to swear to never leave him and knew that he would find no peace of mind until he received his promise. He wished that they could be children again, how easier everything would be, with no need to dwell on what the future held for him and George, but simply to live in the moment and enjoy life as they had always done in their carefree manner. With these thoughts in mind Fred went to seek out George in the storeroom where he had been creating an inventory of their stock.

Fred paused in the doorway, hand on the frame and let out an inaudible sigh full of pent up longing, at the sight of George humming away as he inspected crates of products. His hair was unusually tousled considering that he was the impeccably tidy and strategic one, but Fred thought that the look suited him, as he shuddered at the images flashing before his eyes. Two slender red heads writhing against each other and gasping in pleasure. Fred closed his eyes and savored the imaginary scene, where he was the cause of George's rumpled hair and clothes, as they explored each others bodies; bodies that were so alike, but yet so different. He continued to stand there and watch him, taking in every angle and edge of his profile, drinking in the sight of him and imprinting the image on his mind. He knew that if George turned around now, he would be able to see the love and lust in his twin's alluring brown eyes; eyes that hinted at a mischievous and joyful soul that could still be found beneath the pain. _I love you._

George felt his twin's presence the instant he entered the room, could feel the heat that seemed to radiate off him and fill the room. He knew exactly why Fred was standing there as a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, he also loved to watch his twin but for additional reasons that he feared to reveal to him.

"Hey Freddie", he said casually leaning over another crate. "I think I'm nearly done here. Have you finished the new batch of snackboxes?"

Fred immediately hid the emotions that were blindingly clear on his face. Would George think it odd for him to be standing there for ages unannounced? "Yeah, all done Georgie".

George raised his head then to smile at him, taking in his unnaturally blank expression and wondering what had been etched on his face moments before that he would want to hide from him. George wiped his hands clean on his trousers and rose to his full height, only a fraction of an inch taller than his twin but the height difference was still there.

Fred noticed a black smudge marking his cheek, "you've, you've got dirt on your face", he informed him.

"Oh, thanks", George rubbed hard at the wrong cheek. "We should clean in here".

"No the other one", but George still missed the mark. Fred approached him, trying to ignore the warmth coursing down his body into his groin and trailed his fingertip along the smudge. "Here", his voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, as George's eyelids flickered at Fred's touch. He rubbed at the mark and slipped his hand down the creamy white skin of his neck which was lined with two small moles and thought for a moment that he felt George shiver.

Fred dropped his hand to his twin's shoulder. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Anything Fred," George smiled, despite the panic that had set in as he anticipated what his twin might be about to ask him.

"You know you said about not wanting a girlfriend now, I was thinking that you might change your mind some day..."

George immediately understood what Fred was getting at and smiled. "I promise never to leave you", he whispered as he drew Fred into his arms for a hug.

"I promise you too", Fred replied looking happy, as he beamed at his twin. "I could never see us getting married and living separately like normal people."

George grinned as he squeezed Fred tightly. "So we're not normal then?"

"No", his twin laughed as they separated. "But I'm glad we're not, normal is boring".

Outside the sky was beginning to darken, although it was only early in the evening. The twins emerged from the storeroom and approached the window to observe the scene; Fred felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise as the darkness seemed a poetic reminder of the worsening times. He drew closer to his twin, his light in the darkness. George slipped an arm around his shoulders, as long as they had each other they felt safe and whole. George moved closer to the glass and watched the street closely. Fred edged closer to see what he was watching; the two death eaters who had been stood outside their shop today were walking down the street, laughing in a way that suggested they were up to no good. Normally, when the watch swapped over they would disapparate on the spot, filling George with a sense of unease as he wondered where they were going.

"Shall we follow them?" They exchanged looks, both assessing the level of stupidity of such a move.

"As long as we're careful", George said. "We should really see what they're doing, it might be important".

Simultaneously they moved to the door, taking great care that it didn't bang shut behind them as they began to trail the death eaters, keeping to the side of the alley where the shadows cast by the tall buildings could conceal them. They followed at a safe distance with a soft tread, wands held out at the ready should the death eaters become alerted to their presence.

"My favourite sport", one of them spoke not bothering to keep his voice low. There was no need for the death eaters to live their lives in fear, many of whom had chosen the path of darkness in a selfish bid to preserve their own security in the face of Voldemort's rise to power. The death eaters turned by The Leaky Cauldron, approaching the brick wall that was the gateway into Muggle London. Drawing out his wand, the one who had spoken tapped the bricks in the right combination and disappeared, the wall closing up behind them. The twins waited for several minutes until they could be sure that the death eaters had moved away; although there was no way of guaranteeing that this wasn't a trap to lure them out of their moated castle. The twins had decided with satisfaction that with all the tools they had at their command lining their shelves that it would be extremely foolish indeed for the death eaters to attack them when they were securely holed up in their store.

George drew out his wand that could be said to resemble a broomstick and tapped the bricks. He remembered how disappointed they'd been eight years ago when they'd visited Ollivanders to purchase their wands, that they weren't the same, until the wand maker had explained that all wands were unique and that the two which had chosen them shared twin cores and a magical connection; a connection that was similar to the one which existed between Harry and Voldemort's wands. If the wrong twin was using a wand it still responded to their command, allowing them to perform magic that was only marginally less sophisticated than when using their own wand.

The twins watched the bricks part with held breath, a defensive spell on the tips of each of their tongues, but the death eaters were not waiting for them. The sound of derisive laughter could be heard close by, mingling with female screams. Instantly the twins approached the noise at a jog, whilst still being wary of the possibility that there were other death eaters concealed and waiting to attack from behind. As they rounded the corner onto one of London's wide streets they saw two cloaked figures leaning over two muggle girls of a similar age to the twins, taunting them and pulling at their hair. One of the girls attempted to crawl away from her attacker but was swiftly stopped in her tracks when Rookwood stamped on her hand with a heavily booted foot. The girl screamed as the bones in the hand broke and she clutched it to her chest, whimpering in pain. The twins were filled with righteous fury at the sight of the death eaters attacking two defenseless muggles. They knew that if Voldemort was ultimately successful the muggle population would be reduced to slaves of the pure blood death eaters; a fate that the twins had sworn to do everything they could to prevent. Stalking them like two lions working together to take down their prey, they sent a bombardment of stunning spells at the two death eaters. The spells hit them full force, sending them tumbling roughly to the pavement, unconscious before they had even hit the ground. The girls shrieked in surprise as the death eaters were subdued. George ran over to the one clutching her hand.

"Are you ok?" The girl looked up at him clearly terrified and also confused by what she had just seen. "It's ok, we're not going to hurt you, we're here to help", George soothed.

"Yeah, we're the good guys", Fred smiled as he helped the second girl to her feet and assessed her for any injuries.

"What the hell was that? What are those?" The girl with rich chestnut hair pointed at the wands still clutched in the twins' grip.

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you", Fred chuckled.

George examined the second girl's broken hand with consternation. "I can fix this for you if you like". Initially she appeared uncertain, but looking up into the kind brown eyes she decided that these strange twins could be trusted.

"Episkey", George said. The girl held up her hand in astonishment as the bones were mended and the pain was suddenly gone.

"Magic", she breathed. "It's real".

The twins exchanged looks, muggles weren't supposed to know about the existence of magic, but considering that Voldermort's supporters weren't too concerned with obeying the Statute of Secrecy, it was only natural that the Muggles had become suspicious to what was going on.

"We should modify your memories", Fred grinned. "But I've never used the spell before, so we wouldn't want to wipe all of your memories".

George nodded beside him. "You've got to promise though, never to speak of this to anyone." Both girls nodded earnestly and regarded the twins with wonder.

"What's going on?" The chestnut haired girl asked.

"A war", George replied grimly. "Don't go out at night, it's not safe for you anymore".

She smiled at him. "We haven't properly introduced ourselves. "I'm Lucy and this is Emma".

"Fred and-

George"

George crouched down to examine the death eaters; they had been hit with so many stunning spells that they would be out for hours. He grabbed one by the ankle and started to drag him into a nearby alleyway, as Fred dealt with Rookwood.

"This bugger keeps turning up everywhere", Fred mused.

"At least he got what he deserved for trashing our shop. The bastard is going to have a splitting head tomorrow", George replied. "Can we walk you home ladies?"

Lucy and Emma nodded rapidly, glad to accept the protection offered by the mysterious twins who had rescued them, as they began to walk down the road; the darkness descending all around them.

Lucy giggled. "Are all wizards so handsome?" The twins exchanged looks and smiled.

"No, some really mess themselves up", Fred laughed, thinking of the damage that Voldemort had wrought on his appearance from years of dabbling in dark magic.

Emma glanced at George's missing ear. "Why couldn't you grow your ear back with magic George?"

He smiled wistfully, "some dark magic can't be undone", he said as Lucy announced that they'd arrived home.

"Thank you so much", she said, gratitude filling her voice.

"It was no problem", Fred smiled back.

"I hope that your side wins this war", Lucy added. The twins exchanged further looks, thinking of the consequences if the Order failed.

"We can only hope", George said, trying to make his tone sound optimistic in the face of an uncertain future.

"Do take care of yourselves, maybe we'll see you again", Emma said hopefully as the young women stepped over their threshold and smiled brightly at the twins before closing the door. Fred muttered several protective enchantments over the dwelling, as George did the same for its neighbours. All the way back to the entrance to the alley they protected as many houses as possible, knowing with a sinking feeling that it was impossible to protect all of the Muggles from the mysterious disappearances and murders that they were suffering.

"God I'm glad we followed them, it's not hard to guess what they would have done to them", Fred said darkly. George nodded his agreement as he held their shop door open for Fred to pass through. George closed the door behind him and they ascended the stairs that led to their flat; Fred turned left at the top of the stairs and crossed into the living room, slumping onto the couch with a sigh. George sat down next to him shuffling up close and placing an arm around his shoulders familiarly.

"What's the matter Freddie?" Fred smiled at him, loving George even more for how he always instantly knew when something was wrong and how he was always there to provide the much needed comfort and support. It was no wonder that he loved him so much he thought, snuggling against George and letting his head fall against his twin's shoulder.

"It just seems so impossible doesn't it?" He pulled his wand out of his jacket pocket and lay it on the oak coffee table in front of the couch.

"Anything's possible if you put your mind to it remember?" George said energetically as he tried to inject some optimism back into his twin, becoming more serious was one thing but George had never known Fred to be so pessimistic before.

"Yeah, I know. I just can't see how we're going to win George. Harry has disappeared and without their figurehead most people are too terrified to support the Order."

George remained silent for a moment, thinking hard. "You're right, people need reassurance. Freddie, I think I've got an idea".

* * *

"Georgie, I've said it many times, but I'll say it again. You are an absolute genius mate," Fred grinned at his twin. It was late November and the twins were examining an old wireless set in the Burrow's Living room. George tried not to look too pleased with himself.

"The Order is going to be even more impressed with us now", George grinned. "And about time too".

The twins had decided that what people were in desperate need of was information. With the Ministry under the control of Voldemort, the Daily Prophet was heavily biased towards the dark side and making Harry sound like a dangerous lunatic who needed to be apprehended and denying that anybody was disappearing. People needed to know the truth about what was happening and the twins were determined to bring it to them through their own wireless programme, in an effort to raise people's spirits.

"We've been slacking really haven't we. It's our job to cheer people up; I'm sure that they'll be grateful for some entertainment", Fred said enthusiastically.

"Yeah, it's probably going to be a tadge obvious it's us even with code names, but I suppose unless they catch us they can't prove anything", George said thoughtfully.

Mrs Weasley bustled into the living room carrying two steaming plates of beef and potatoe pie. "I'm so proud of you two", she praised them as she set the plates down in front of them. "What would people do without the Weasley Twins to cheer them up?" She patted both of their cheeks affectionately as the twins looked up at her surprised.

"Proud?" Fred asked, hardly daring to believe that their Mother had used that word in relation to them.

"Of course dear! Why would you think I wasn't?" The twins exchanged dark looks; they had plenty of reason to believe that she was in fact ashamed of them, as memories of her constantly railing against them surfaced. Why can't you stop these stupid jokes and pranks? Why can't you focus on your schoolwork? Why didn't you get more owls? Why can't you be more like Percy and your other brothers? You've started a joke shop? Where did I go wrong with you two? Why can't you just be normal? Why do you have to embarrass me time and time again with the stunts that you pull? Why can't you be more like Percy? The latter question they had heard many times, therefore it was no wonder that with Percy's superior attitude towards them that the twins had never got on particularly well with him; even though they had tried many times. They kept these thoughts to themselves and simply smiled back at her.

"You two need fattening up", she chided eyeing their lanky frames.

"You've tried that many times Mum, but we're just too naturally skinny", Fred laughed as she poked at his ribs and frowned.

"Blame Ron," George smirked. "He ate all our food".

"Then how did you grow so tall", she laughed shoving forks into their hands.

"The theory of evolution. We grew taller to reach the biscuit cupboard that Ron couldn't get to see, so we didn't starve like the giraffes with short necks," Fred said through a mouthful of delicious pie, as George nearly choked on his with laughter. Fred patted him on the back and smiled, thankful that he was still just as funny really.

Mrs Weasley chortled as she left the room, tears of mirth escaping her eyes. Mr Weasley passed her in the doorway and smiled with a questioning gaze. "The twins", she answered as she returned to the kitchen.

"Got any jokes for me boys, god knows I could do with one", he said sinking down with a sigh into one of the living room's cosy armchairs.

"I bet it's awful at the Ministry now Dad", Fred said, concerned to see how tired their Father looked.

"Awful", he nodded. "Seeing those poor muggleborns going in for questioning and knowing there's nothing I can do without exposing myself as a member of the Order". He sighed, rubbing tiredly at the bags under his eyes.

"Well our first broadcast should cheer you up Dad. We're doing it tomorrow night. George and I are going to find some random shed somewhere."

"We'll have to keep changing the location we do it from so they don't find us", George added.

Mr Weasley smiled, he was filled with pride to see them using their talents for such a good cause. Although he had never picked favorites among his children, he couldn't deny that he had a soft spot for the twins and had always tried to excuse their pranks as harmless fun to their Mother.

The following evening carrying the heavy equipment between them, the twins apparated to a remote location where they had found an abandoned building that was perfect for their needs; although George suspected that it was empty due to the death eaters' attacks on the muggle population. Creaks could be hear coming from upstairs, but a quick check revealed that there was nothing to worry about; however the dilapidated state of the house reminded them of the Shrieking Shack. Furniture had been smashed and the paint had begun to peel off the dour walls in strips. The twins wrinkled their noses at the smell of mould and damp as George mended one of the tables to place their equipment on.

"Ready Fred?"

"Ready George!"

Fred found it uplifting to employ his wit again, as they both struggled to prevent themselves from laughing on air when one of them made a particularly witty remark. It really wasn't hard to guess who was mocking the Chief Death Eater Fred thought as they packed up the kit at the end of the broadcast. In the twins opinion this was one of the best actions against a power that they'd ever taken, breaking school rules was one thing, but this was an act against Voldemort whose grip over the Wizarding World represented everything that the two hated about authority.

"I don't know about uplifting everybody else's spirits, but I think it did you some good Freddie", George said, noting the sparkle that had come back to life in Fred's eyes.

"Yeah, I was in my element Saintlike one", Fred grinned at him, as they linked hands to apparate back to their shop.

"Why did you want your code name to be Rapier anyway?"

They appeared on their doorstep and Fred winked archly at his twin; a wink that made George feel like he was melting as he swallowed hard.

"Because of my sharp wit of course Georgie", he said, placing a hand on the small of George's back and pushing him gently through the door. He observed with surprise that there were no death eaters outside the shop watching them, as he felt more cheerful than he had done in months, after having managed to temporarily escape his depressing thoughts and simply enjoy being with his twin. Every moment was precious, as Fred could not quite contain the nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach that he might have a limited number of those moments left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: For anyone who hasn't listened to Fred and George's Potterwatch recordings on YouTube I'd recommend them, they're really funny. (I didn't include them because of plagiarism).


	16. Fred's Last Christmas?

December heralded the onslaught of the winter weather; already the windows were frosted with ice and the wind was bitingly cold. The hours of daylight were rapidly reducing as the Wizarding world seemed thrust into a perpetual state of near darkness. Voldemort's iron grip over the country was tightening as the weeks went by, but all the Order could do was stand by powerlessly and plot and plan. It was frustrating, but Voldemort's influence was everywhere, even among the smiling faces that might profess themselves to be your friend but could lead you to betrayal. It was difficult to know who to trust these days Fred thought, as the presence of the death eaters seemed overpowering and the number of those willing to make a stand few and far between. He turned his head slightly to his left and smiled at George, knowing that he had one person whom he could always trust no matter what did much to reassure him. The twins were standing in the living room of Remus Lupin's apartment waiting for the latest Order meeting to begin. Tension was palpable in the room as Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus eyed each other angrily. It seemed that the stress was getting too much for both of them, as neither could agree on the next suitable course of action.

"I thought they were going to kill each other last week", Fred whispered, leaning in towards his twin's remaining ear.

"It would save Chief Death Eater some effort then if we all turned on each other", George muttered in response.

"I'd have to be under the Imperious curse to kill you", Fred smiled.

"Nah, I don't think there's any spell that could ever make us hurt each other; we'd be able to fight it off Freddie". He sighed, "at least I hope there's no magic strong enough to make us forget how much we love each other". He reached to squeeze Fred's hand gently; when he drew his own away Fred clung onto it firmly. George smiled at him then, a smile that was full of love and affection.

"Hey, at least it's nearly Christmas", George reminded him. They exchanged grins, the two had always loved it even though they had come from a poor family and their presents had usually been of the hand knitted variety; it was wonderful to have something to celebrate with their family. Family was important to the twins, their close bond had never made them less attentive to the rest of their siblings and their parents; their bond was a pure thing, it would never make them selfish. The twins knew that this year the chances of them celebrating together were very slim. The whole family had not celebrated Christmas together for so long, as for several years in a row they had stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays and on the last two occasions the three eldest Weasley brothers had been missing. Percy's absence was the most notable of all that year they'd had Christmas dinner at Grimmauld place, as it had come only shortly after he had walked out on the family. The twins couldn't believe that it had nearly been two years since a Weasley had abandoned its family. If the war wasn't reason enough for Percy to forget his differences with them, then it seemed unlikely to Fred that they'd ever be reconciled with him. And as much as Percy could be a pompous prat the twins still loved him and had many fond memories of them as children, when Percy had temporarily abandoned his superior attitude towards them and had shown a lovable side to his personality.

Bill walked over to his younger brothers, closely followed by Fleur; as the scars across his face were thrown into profile by the harsh light of the lamp stood on top of the sideboard behind them. The twins grinned at him as he approached, subtly releasing each other's hands. They had not seen much of their eldest brother at all since they were eleven and he had finished Hogwarts to work abroad; his visits home too infrequent for Mrs Weasley's liking. In reality they had become nearly strangers and Bill had been shocked to see upon his return home two years ago the two tall lanky teenagers standing in front of him, when he'd expected to see the two tiny terrors that he'd left behind. It had made him realise how much he'd neglected his family to pursue his career; a move that Bill was regretting now, as he felt glad to have secured a job in England to be closer to his family.

"It seems that you two are impressing everybody at the moment", he smiled, stretching the gashes that had been inflicted on him by the werewolf Fenrir Greyback.

"Yes, zat was very funny vat you did", Fleur smiled prettily at them.

"Funny is what we do Fleur", Fred grinned. Never before had the twins received so much praise and were astounded to discover the wealth of respect and love that people had for them. Their opinions were being actively sought now by the other members of the Order, as their talents had finally gained appreciation. It had been a uphill struggle to prove themselves next to the more conventional achievements of their older brothers, but Fred was filled with satisfaction to see that they had finally succeeded in seeking the recognition which they rightfully deserved. They engaged their eldest brother in conversation, asking him about the loyalty of the goblins that he worked with, hoping that if anything that the family would become a much closer unit after the war. Fred felt glad that they had become reacquainted with their elder brother, as he had begun to make frequent visits to their shop. The twins had always secretly admired him for how 'cool' he was; they knew that they had never been cool and never would be; they were far too unconventional and did and said too many odd things for people to ever consider them in that way. This had never bothered them in the slightest; they loved being unique and knew that nobody could ever be like them.

Kingsley cleared his throat ready to begin proceedings, but was interrupted by Dedalus Diggle bursting through the doorway. The tiny wizard drew to a halt, clutching his side and wheezing; he tried to speak but could not summon the necessary breath. After thirty seconds he recovered himself sufficiently to blurt out, "they know... the Order..is here, they're coming... now, we all...need to leave...now".

Fred automatically grabbed George by the wrist with an unyielding grip so that he didn't lose him in the commotion, as there was a rush for the doorway. The anti-apparition jinx that had been placed over the building may have prevented the death eaters from entering until they managed to break the spell, but it also prevented them from leaving until they passed its range.

The twins were standing furthest away from the exit, hearts pounding as they watched the crammed room emptying agonizingly slowly. Fred tugged George behind him as he attempted to hurry the people in front of him. Eventually they managed to make their way outside where their parents and Kingsley Shacklebolt were ensuring that everybody was able to leave safely. Mrs Weasley looked over and saw her sons emerging last and flapped her arms at them frantically, "boys quickly, go!" Fred placed an arm around George's waist and apparated them to outside The Leaky Cauldron. If he had landed them on their doorstep it would have been obvious to the death eaters watching their store that they had just escaped from the meeting. Maintaining his hold of George, Fred steered him into the pub, where they found Tom the innkeeper wiping down the long wooden tables which were empty of customers.

"Tom, if anybody asks you if we've been in here, would you please tell them that we have been for the last hour?" Fred looked around to ensure that he hadn't been overheard. The old innkeeper nodded once and turned his attention back to his task.

"Thank you", Fred replied quietly.

He had been one of the people that the twins had appealed to in October and had been more than willing to provide cover for them and report back on any drunken talk from the death eaters. Fred and George had been most amused to hear that after a shift watching their store the death eaters liked to get rather chatty with Tom.

"Most of them are idiots who couldn't find employment anywhere else", George had replied. "Must have been desperate a lot of them, I don't think Voldemort would take very kindly to somebody handing their notice in!"

The twins left the pub and walked quickly up the alley to their shop. The colourful facade with its inviting window displays of their products was looking more and more out of place next to the dark closed shutters of many of its neighbors. Fred reached for his wand to unlock the door but was halted by a cold voice from behind them.

"And where might you two have been this last hour?" It was Yaxley; Fred ground his teeth together and swung them both around to face him. Seeing the person who had tortured his twin at the wedding brought back unhappy memories of Fred's guilt, as he fought every bone, muscle and ligament in his body to not strangle him and wipe that cruel smile off his face permanently.

"We've been at The Leaky Cauldron, you can ask Tom", George answered quickly before Fred had chance to speak; the grip on his wrist had turned painful letting George know how close he was to lashing out.

"Oh really? Then why does my information tell me otherwise?" Yaxley sneered.

"You have no proof of anything Yaxley", George replied calmly with a polite smile. "Now if you'd excuse us please."

Fred's grip released slightly and George took the opportunity to free his wrist, he flexed it wincing slightly and took hold of Fred's elbow to move him out of attacking range from Yaxley, noting the anger that had replaced the sparkle in his eyes and the set of his jaw. Fred looked rather terrifying when he was staring at someone like that, George thought. He began to back them towards the safety of their doorway, turning their backs on a sadistic death eater like Yaxley would have been suicide.

"Just remember that I don't need proof of anything to drag you up in front of a court, just something for you to think about", he began to walk away; a demonic glint lit his pale eyes.

"And it's only a matter of time before your blood traitor family gets what they deserve", he spat.

George smiled pleasantly at him. "Well I can say that we weren't expecting such an honor, however well deserved. I think our Order of Merlin should be first class eh Freddie?"

Fred's dark stare cracked into a smile. "Yeah, we always provide first class entertainment after all", he chortled as they sought the safety of their store, closing the door firmly against Yaxley.

"He's really going to enjoy killing us if he gets the chance", George commented as they watched him walking over to consult with the other death eater positioned opposite the store.

Fred nodded, wondering how long they had before it was discovered that the Weasley family had been assisting Harry. Currently they had no plans for going into hiding and he hated the idea of having to abandon their store, expecting that the death eaters would enjoy burning it to the ground. They'd lose everything and have to start from scratch. Fred couldn't bear the thought of George and his' dream being destroyed and was determined to take measures to protect their work.

After sharing his concerns with George, the twins set to work the following day setting extra protective enchantments over their building. They managed to create a powerful charm over their flat that prevented anybody apart from themselves from entering through the interconnecting door to the shop or from the additional entrance that led directly onto the alley. There were so many precious memories in that flat, their first home together, their sanctuary, that neither wanted it to be intruded upon by the death eaters; not to mention their laboratory which contained notes and examples of everything they'd ever invented. Fred took two large rucksacks from their wardrobe and placed an extendable charm on it, making it bigger on the inside and light to carry, regardless of what was in it. The spell was one of the most difficult charms to perfect considering that it involved creating a fourth dimension, but with the twin's proficiency it didn't cause them too much trouble.

Later they sat on the couch, tired by their efforts and a hard day working in the shop, but Fred felt more relaxed now that they'd made some sort of preparation. They'd pack later he thought, as soon as things deteriorated they'd be ready. He yawned widely, passing it on to George who after closing his mouth, adjusted himself on the couch and lay his head in Fred's lap. Fred stroked his hair lovingly, rubbing the soft strands between his fingers and working his fingers in circles against the scalp.

"Mmmmmm", George muttered sleepily. "Umph, you're...Good at scalp massages Freddie". Fred smiled warmly down at him, enjoying their moment of intimacy; such moments had steadily increased as they sought each other's comfort more frequently. Daringly, George rubbed his hand along the inside of Fred's thigh, forcing his twin to stifle what would have been a rather loud moan, as George's hand slipped higher still stopping just short of his crotch. Fred knew that such caressing would be considered wrong if people saw them, but George seemed oblivious to such opinions; in a way Fred didn't want to confess his feelings, he didn't want to force George into seeing the reality of their situation, the reality would be harsh and the impact on their relationship devastating. He wanted to let George dwell in his innocence, completely unaware that George was under no illusion whatsoever. For the first time in their lives, the twins were unable to read each other's emotions. For the first time ever their faces concealed secrets from the other.

* * *

George stood outside the Daily Prophet perusing the newspaper that contained nothing but lies. The front page as usual contained a large moving image of Harry with the caption 'Undesirable No 1'; it was beyond his understanding how people could doggedly believe such falsification, surely they knew what Voldemort was capable of? Although, even with the war reaching its height there were still those who stubbornly refused to believe that Voldemort was in control of the ministry or that he had even returned at all. George looked along to the next store, its displays showed an assortment of miscellaneous objects. Fred had entered to buy something for his twin's Christmas present, leaving George curious as he contemplated peering through the window; despite Fred's smiling threat to place a permanent tickling charm on him if he spoiled the surprise.

Fred emerged from the store clutching a large paper bag and caught sight of George standing metres away with his nose in a paper. He snuck up on him, left hand outstretched to scare him.

"Hello Freddie", George greeted, nose still in the paper. Fred grinned, not once had either of them succeeded in jump scaring the other; always given away by the familiar scent or the inner feeling that reliably alerted them to their twin's presence.

"So what's my gift?" He asked casually, trying to catch Fred off guard.

"Nice try", he said stepping up behind him to read the headlines. "It'll be under my bed so you're banned from going under there."

"Damm, you know I love crawling around under our beds!"

He laughed, the bubbly sound reverberating along the alley. Some people stopped and stared; it was unusual to hear the sounds of laughter these days. George folded the paper and smiled, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

"Looking under there", he corrected himself, clutching his side. "But I'm serious, no peeking. I know you struggle to resist the temptation". It was true, patient in all other areas of life, George's patience evaporated when it came to surprises and he reverted to an eager child.

"They're calling poor Harry undesirable", George informed him.

"Well if they're ever hunting for us, they'll have to think of a new caption for you George", he said in a flirty tone.

"Yes, you're quite right. I can see it now, 'missing, one eared Weasley, answers to the name of George". He took a sideways look at Fred and smirked; Fred had stuffed a fist against his mouth to stifle his mirth, his shoulders shaking.

"George you crack me up". George slipped an arm around his shoulders and attempted to open the bag still clutched in his twin's arm. Fred batted his arm away still laughing as they moved to return to their shop. George stopped suddenly, halting Fred by placing a hand to his chest. "Look".

Percy was walking at a brisk pace down the alley, looking immaculate in a pin striped suit and wearing his usual horn rimmed glasses. He was clutching a brief case under one arm. Fred stiffened to see their traitorous brother, but George tugged at his sleeve and moved off in Percy's direction. Fred followed, having a good idea of what George had in mind but feeling unconvinced that it would have any impact on their pretentious brother.

"Percy. Percy. Perce, wait a minute", George shouted after his retreating back. Percy stopped and turned, it was obvious by his expression that he wasn't pleased to see them in the slightest.

"George. Fred", he said coldly. George smiled at him, but Fred's face remained neutral.

"How are you?"

"Good", he took a few steps backwards, intending to escape as soon as possible.

"Why don't you come in for a cuppa", George suggested. "Or come and see Mum, you know she'd be happy to see you. Don't you think that with everything going on that you should forget any disagreements, I know that Dad is willing to-"

"I'm far too busy and even if I wasn't I wouldn't care to spend my time with _you two",_ Percy said bluntly, as he began to carry on his way.

The disappointment and sadness in George's eyes as they watched Percy's retreating back flared Fred's temper.

"Don't you speak to George like he's a piece of filth you've stepped in. Surely you can't be so blind or arrogant to see what's going on, that you were wrong and that you should come and be reconciled with us. For Christ's sake Percy are you really that proud that you can't accept that? Have you not even noticed George's ear; he nearly died protecting Harry and where were you? Where have you been Percy when your family needed you the last two years? Maybe you'll realise that we all love you and want you back even though you've been the world's biggest prat. Maybe you'll realise that before one of us ends up dead and you wasted all this time being with us over your stupid pride!"

Fred took George's arm and dragged him away; his heart pounding. Percy stared after them, guilt written all over his face; he opened his mouth to call after them but his pride got the better of him and he turned away. Months later he would sincerely regret and despise himself for how today's encounter had ended.

Later, George lay on his bed, tapping his fingers in boredom against his leg. The sound of running water could be heard from the bathroom as he heard Fred start to sing. The notes of his beautiful voice were music to George's ears; he loved to hear his twin sing and knew that he didn't realise how good he was. George looked across at his twin's bed, the edge of the brown paper bag could be seen sticking out slightly. _It wouldn't hurt if I took a peek._

He dropped to his hands and knees and drew the bag towards him. Strange, it didn't seem to have anything in it. He inspected the insides, all that was in there was a small piece of folded up parchment. George drew it out confused, Fred had brought him parchment? He unfolded it, all it contained were three words. George had neglected to notice that the singing from the bathroom had ceased.

_Nice try Georgie_

_"_ Your face is utterly priceless right now George", his twin chortled behind him. George looked up and grinned to see him stood there with the biggest smirk on his face he'd ever seen. A towel was draped around his waist loosely, his hip bones protruding from above it. To George it looked teasingly low as water dripped down Fred's chest and stomach, disappearing out of sight behind the towel. There was no other word for it; Fred looked gorgeous. George struggled to regulate his breathing to a normal rate as his twin ran a long fingered hand through his damp hair; the water had darkened it to a rich shade of auburn brown.

"Yeah you got me Fred", he replied with a sheepish grin rising from his knees and sitting on his twin's bed, smoothing down the red and gold blanket.

"Well, please don't spoil the surprise, it's not finished yet anyway. I'll need to use the lab for an hour if that's ok Georgie?"

"Sure, I can work on yours too", he smiled as he saw Fred scan the room quickly for signs of concealed packages.

"Curious are we", he teased.

"I'll promise not to look if you won't", Fred smiled as he swiped a finger lovingly down his cheek and proceeded to dry himself.

"Deal. Nice singing by the way", which made Fred redden.

"Oh, I didn't realise I was being so loud".

"Well I like listening to you", George complemented him.

"Of course you would Georgie", he chuckled as he pulled on a pair of boxer shorts.

"Honestly, you're really good", he complemented him as Fred drew a pajama top over his head.

His head reappeared, a grin spread across his face. "Thanks Georgie. We could form a duet, 'Gred and Forge'."

"I dunno, I can't sing as well as you", he said modestly.

Fred placed a hand on the door handle and regarded him affectionately. "Nonsense, I love the sound of your voice George", he said opening the door and closing it quickly behind him. He stood with his back against the door, breathing heavily; his attraction to his twin was increasing rather than abating as he had hoped it would.

He entered the laboratory and retrieved George's present from where he had hidden it among the products on display. It was a snow globe, beautifully crafted with two tiny russet colored foxes formed onto the base. As soon as Fred had seen it he knew that it would be perfect for the spell which he had created; a novel gift next to the joke items which they usually brought each other. He cast the spell and shook the globe; it's contents swirled about in a cloud of colour and settled. Fred smiled, it had worked, he had created a memory globe; it acted like a pensive but there was no need to add your thoughts to it, as Fred had designed the spell to automatically display the best memories of the person who was holding it. Fred shook it again; the cloud settling to reveal two red heads on brooms zooming around the Great Hall at Hogwarts setting off a colourful array of fireworks. Every time Fred shook it a different memory was presented to him. It was perfect he thought as he wrapped the globe up in tissue paper and placed it back in its hiding place.

Meanwhile George was also wrapping up his twin's gift; a gold watch with two russet foxes which he had engraved around the bracelet. Their own faces looked up at him from the two hands, alternating between goofy grins and joyful smiles. He heard Fred knock on the door, "just a minute", he called, as he hurried to conceal it in a box of joke items underneath his bed.

"Done Freddie". The door opened and Fred entered looking pleased; he crossed over to George and enveloped him in a hug. George tugged him down onto the bed and they sat together like that savoring the moment, arms slipped tightly around each other's bodies.

* * *

Christmas day dawned; Fred stretched and turned over but sat bolt upright when he remembered what day it was. He pushed the covers aside and crossed the room to George, who was still snoring softly; his mouth making a wide 'O'. Fred shook his shoulder gently; George opened one sleepy eye and smiled warmly at his twin.

"Merry Christmas Georgie!"

"Merry Christmas Freddie!"

George sat up and freed himself from the blankets, slipped his arms around Fred's neck and kissed him firmly on the mouth; Fred responded with equal warmth. Even though it was nothing but a quick brotherly kiss, each twin's heart pounded as they enjoyed the taste and feel of the other. Fred sat back on his haunches and smiled at him, resisting the temptation to swipe his tongue along his lips to savor the taste of George.

The flurry of snow flakes outside caught their attention and both twins pressed their noses against the window like small children, the wintry sunlight reflecting in their eyes. Exchanging glances they both grinned and went to retrieve each other's gifts, unable to bear the anticipation any longer. George offered his to Fred first who took it with eager hands, his fingers fumbling over the tissue paper.

"Ah, thanks George, I love it", he said as he admired the exquisite detail on the watch face and grinned at their laughing faces on the hands. He slipped it onto his wrist, it fit snugly and was a welcome replacement for the battered old watch that had formerly adorned his wrist. He noted the two foxes with wonder; their patronouses had seemed extremely fitting the first time they had successfully performed the spell.

"Your welcome Fred", George said, his eyes bright at the sight of his twin's gratitude for his gift.

They sat cross legged opposite one another as Fred handed his own gift to George who slowly removed the purple wrappings and exclaimed at the snow globe revealed to him. He shook it and smiled over what it showed to him; he and Fred were dancing together stupidly at the Yule Ball. Angelina and Alicia stood together watching and clutching their sides with laughter. He shook it again and more wonderful memories were revealed to him; this time their discovery of the Marauders Map. Their eleven year old selves were jumping up and down excitedly as they uncovered the secrets of the map that had been their greatest aid to mischief making, before they had selflessly handed it over to Harry.

"You invented a spell for me", George gushed at his twin who simply smiled as George ran a finger over the fine detail on the base. "It seems we had the same idea with the foxes", he said looking into its depths again. He gasped in shock and Fred's smile turned to a look of bewilderment.

"What's the matter? Is there something wrong with it?" He asked anxiously.

"Not exactly, it doesn't just show memories Freddie, but dreams too", he couldn't tear his gaze away from the scene in front of him. There was no way that this was a memory, he had never kissed Fred with passion like this; he had never caressed his naked body like this and he had certainly never done _that_ with his twin. George blinked several times, but there was no doubt about it, inside the snow globe he and his twin were engaging in sexual intercourse. Their limbs intertwined and their faces radiated their obvious pleasure; as the snow globe's glass reflected his astonished expression.

"Why, what do you see?" Fred leaned forwards to gaze into the snow globe's depths, but George covered it with his hands, terrified that his twin would be able to see what the globe was showing him and be utterly disgusted.

George swallowed hard and lowered the snow globe from his face; he couldn't meet his twin's eyes. "Oh, us in our shop of course, it's the success that we've dreamed of and we've even expanded and opened several new stores." The lie came easily to his lips, but George knew that the deceit showed in his avoidance of his twin's eyes. Fred reached for it and shook it again gently.

"I don't know what you mean George, all I can see are memories", he said, sounding confused. "We're...Oh...Yeah your right...I can see my deepest desires too", he said as he hurriedly placed the snow globe back in George's lap.

"What did you see?"

"Oh you know what I want, the same things as you of course", he replied, panicking that the increased pitch of his voice would give him away.

George nodded, thinking that for once they wanted different things. "You still like it though right"?

"Of course," George smiled at him warmly as he shook the globe again. It presented several memories and then the scene of his dreams; after recovering from the initial shock George was enamored with observing their doubles engaged in bliss. It would never really be real, but here it seemed that his dream had been brought to life.

"This is a bit like the Mirror of Erised", George spoke to fill the silence that had descended over their room. "You clever thing Mister, people would love these!"

"Well, I hadn't thought about making more and selling them. It was supposed to be just for you. You know something special", Fred smiled at him tenderly.

"It is, thank you", George leaned forwards to press a gentle kiss to his cheek and then drew back, his eyes glued to the globe. Fred wondered what it was that he was seeing; it was obvious that he had lied about the shop. They'd achieved their original dream.

"The mirror could drive people crazy with unfulfilled dreams George. You're not going to go berserk on me right?"

"Of course not", George laughed, still staring with a rapt expression into the globe. Fred made a mental note to himself never to look into it again, judging by the sadness that had consumed him since the discovery of his feelings, the globe might be enough to send him into the realms of madness.

After enjoying the morning together, lazing around and eating some of the chocolate from their Christmas tree, they pulled on warm clothing and trudged outside into the snow for a snow ball fight. Fred pulled down the edges of George's hat firmly over his ears to protect his exposed ear drum from the biting cold. Usually, there were more participants, namely Harry, Ron and occasionally Ginny but today it was just the two of them. As they always teamed up against the other players it felt odd to be scooping up a pile of compact snow to chuck at his twin, as he wondered where the trio were now and whether Harry was near to completing the unknown task set to him by Dumbledore. As one o'clock neared, they prepared to head inside and change for Christmas lunch at the Burrow; Fred chasing George up the stairs with a load of snow in payment for the handful he'd just shoved down his back, but it had melted before he'd even reached the top of the stairs. Laughing, George poked his head over the banister and stuck his tongue out, his wand still pointed at Fred's cupped hands where he had melted the snow.

"Ok, you win Georgie", Fred grinned.

An hour later and they were sat in the living room of the Burrow, which had been festooned with numerous decorations. Nine stockings were hung over the fireplace, stuffed full of sweets and homemade fudge, each one embroidered with the initials of a family member. Ginny grinned at George as their Mother had again forgotten that they shared the same initials. Despite the numerous decorations the house seemed lacking in festive cheer, Mrs Weasley was saddened by the absence of so many family members and Harry. Bill and Fleur had decided that they wanted to spend their first Christmas as a married couple at their cottage and Mr Weasley had been called into the Ministry; only two of her six sons able to spend Christmas with her. The twins had noted her subdued mood with consternation, but they knew that their Mother's spirits would remain low until all of her family was safe.

"It's awful isn't it?" Ginny's voice was quiet as she fiddled with her nails.

George placed an arm comfortingly around her shoulder. "I know", he sighed heavily. Both twins were relieved to see their sister in one piece, after attendance at Hogwarts had been made compulsory she had had little option but to attend a school that was now under Voldemort's control.

"How's school been?" Fred asked as he also placed an arm around her shoulder.

"Awful. It's not Hogwarts any more. The Carrows enjoy disciplining the students and terrorizing everyone who is related to a suspected member of the Order or a known friend of Harry's".

"They haven't hurt you?" George interjected sharply.

Ginny looked up into the concerned brown eyes and squeezed her brother's hand reassuringly. "Nothing too serious George. I'm fine, far better than some people", she said thinking of the state that Neville Longbottom was in.

"I've missed you two", she smiled at them.

"We've missed you two Gin", they said in unison making her laugh.

"Mum told me about Potterwatch when I got home. It's brilliant", she grinned.

"Well we decided that lifting morale was our job", Fred also grinned as the three got up and crossed into the kitchen where their Mother was chopping vegetables; the slant of her shoulders indicating her low spirits.

"We'll help you Mum", Fred offered, as he bent down to pull the huge turkey out of the oven. George came to assist him and they managed to place it on the sideboard without burning themselves.

"Oh thank you sweethearts", she said as she attempted to discreetly brush away a tear that had escaped the corner of her eye.

Seeing this, Fred hugged his Mother tightly. "I'm sure that Ron, Dad and everybody are ok Mum", he whispered as George rubbed her back comfortingly.

"Oh. What would I do without you two", she smiled through the additional tears that had made their way down her lined face. She glanced at the size of the turkey and chuckled weakly. "I don't know how we're going to eat this between the four of us", she sniffed. "Not with you two skinny bones".

"We'll do our best", George grinned.

Fred let his fork drop to his plate with a clatter, that was it he couldn't manage another mouthful as he clutched his bloated stomach. Glancing to his left he saw George soldiering on through another roast potato before he conceded defeat with a small groan and leaned back in his chair. Mrs Weasley had barely touched her portion; she kept looking towards the door hopefully, but nobody had entered since the twins' arrival hours earlier. Ginny had barely eaten a thing either; her thoughts focused on her worry for Harry.

"Cracker Mum," George offered, holding it out to her and picking up another one to pull with Fred.

She smiled and pulled, it went off with a bang as streamers erupted and showered the table.

"These really are lovely boys, thank you", she said, nodding at the scented candles which she had just unwrapped. "I'm sorry it's not much", she said guiltily as she handed them identical packages wrapped in orange paper.

The twins each pulled out a homemade blue jumper emblazoned with the initial of their first name.

"No, these are great", Fred thanked her pulling the warm wool over his head.

"Yeah thanks Mum, it wouldn't be Christmas without a homeade jumper or scarf", George smiled.

"I just thought that now you two are rolling in it, such presents would seem a little well..."

"But we still appreciate them; besides we're only just about breaking even, business is quieter again", George said enthusiastically whilst Fred nodded rapidly next to him. Mrs Weasley kissed them both on the cheek and ruffled their hair affectionately. "My twins", she said softly, as she pulled them both in for a hug, being careful this time that she didn't bang their heads together.

The twins offered to stay for the night, not wanting to leave their Mother and sister alone with their Father still being held up at work; it seemed that the death eaters were doing everything they could to spoil people's Christmas', Fred thought glumly as he and George settled down in their old room; their stomachs still feeling full to bursting. What if this was somebody's last Christmas? They were such a large family that the odds were stacked against them; it would be a miracle if they all made it out of this war alive. Sighing, he slipped out of bed and snuggled in with his twin despite being clad in only his underwear. What if this was his last Christmas with George?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm going on holiday for a week on Thursday, so this might be the last update until I get back. Thank you for reading!


	17. Death Eater Discovery

Before the twins knew it March the 2nd was upon them; the clock in the alley chiming that it was two o'clock in the morning. Meanwhile, another clock, the clock of fate chimed two months to go. If fate had its way then the hourglass was nearly empty, the sand trickling down without mercy, without pause, counting down the weeks and the days and the hours until devastation and loss would consume the twins. Or would another path be possible? Although the fear wrapped closer around them then ever as the war pushed forwards to its conclusion, it provided them with no warning, no chance to avert what cruel fate had in store for them.

George jerked awake from a disturbing premonition, his heart rate increased and his breathing ragged. Automatically, he turned to check that Fred was still safely tucked up beside him and indeed there he was curled up tightly in the narrow space with his arms crossed over his lean chest. Lately there had been a silent agreement between them that each needed the presence of the other at night if they hoped to achieve any rest, but they hadn't talked about it. Fred was determined to steer clear of the subject as his resolve to conceal all from George had wilted so significantly, that he feared if he was questioned by his twin the glaring truth would be revealed. He'd been careful with his touches, keeping them friendly and brotherly and ensuring that he didn't initiate contact more than his twin did.

George touched Fred's cheek gently to avoid waking him; the simple feel of his beloved's skin doing much to reassure him and banish the nightmare to a place in his mind where it could temporarily be ignored. George was more in love with Fred than ever and was all too aware that the more he loved him, the more painful the thought of losing him became.

As he continued to watch him, he saw Fred's expression contort into a grimace before relaxing again. George placed a tender hand on his chest, feeling a heartbeat that was pounding at the pace of his own minutes before.

"Fred! Wake up Fred!". George shook him frantically, seeking to remove him from the nightmare as quickly as possible.

Fred's eyelids snapped open, his pupils were wide with terror as they met George's. Fred gasped in relief and seized George around the middle, laying his head against his shoulder. George held him tightly and rubbed his back soothingly.

"It's ok", George murmured in his ear. "What was it?"

"You nearly dying again", Fred whispered, as if saying the words out loud might make it true. He raised his head slightly from George's shoulder; his eyes looked dull and distant, indicating that his mind was still consumed by the dream. George didn't answer but simply held him for several minutes, an embrace doing what empty words could not. Assurances would be pointless when there was the very real chance that he could die during what was to come.

After several minutes George broke the silence, "I had one too, funny that."

"Me?" The terror in Fred's eyes had rapidly shifted to concern as he offered his arms to his twin in comfort.

"Yeah." George muttered as they continued to hold each other. "Perhaps we should start facing what might happen, rather than trying to shut it out. I'm sure that if I died you'd be..."

"What? Fine? I'd never be fine George. Never!" Fred spoke with passion; his eyes lit up with the intensity of it.

"I know, but moving on wouldn't mean that you loved me any less and with our family you wouldn't be alone".

"None of them are you George. Do we have to talk about this?" Fred averted his gaze and his hand gripped the duvet with agitation.

"It's ok to be scared you know. True bravery is when you're brave in spite of the fear", George tried to smile.

"I don't feel brave. You of all people should know that I'm no where near as confident as I pretend to be", he sighed. His fingers slowly caressed George's wrist in small circles as he traced the path of veins visible underneath the surface of the skin.

"I know. You've made a very convincing performance. Convincing to everyone apart from me that is", George smiled up at him.

"Well you know me better than I know myself Georgie," Fred said, reflecting on the performance that he'd been putting on ever since the discovery of his feelings. He knew of course that George was aware that it was an act, an attempt at hiding, but thankfully remained distracted by the noise and had no idea what was hiding behind the stage when the curtains fell.

* * *

The following morning they both stood in front of the mirror, their jaws smothered in shaving cream; Fred making deft movements with the razor whilst George attacked his sparse stubble more haphazardly.

"Ouch", he winced as he nicked his skin and a droplet of blood made its way down his neck. "This is a right pain in the ass".

Fred chuckled as he dabbed at the wound gently with a cloth. "You wouldn't fancy growing a beard then?"

"I don't think we'd be able to Fred. We're a tadge deficient in the facial hair category. Though I think you might manage a moustache", he said, running a finger in a line above his soft lips.

Fred suppressed a shiver and gently cupped George's chin in his hand. "Here, let me help you before you cut your throat". Fred ran the razor skillfully over George's skin, without nicking him once. George held his breath, not daring to exhale in case a sigh was released. Fred slowed his movements and they met each other's eyes and smiled for a brief moment before Fred hastily placed the razor on the side of the sink and rubbed George's face clean with the cloth.

"There we are", Fred said, turning his back to put the shaving cream away.

"Er thanks mate", George said awkwardly as he rubbed a hand over the freshly smooth skin of his face.

Things felt a little awkward to George as they stood behind the counter together, a space carefully placed between them, but it didn't last long; Fred broke the silence with a smile and a joke, replacing it with their usual companionable one. The silence was comforting and harmonious as not many silences could be, but with the twins knowing each other as well as they did endless chatter was not necessary; so they waited quietly for the customers that didn't come. Perhaps it was time to finally admit defeat Fred thought as he surveyed their shop, delighting in every display, every individual product stacked on the shelves that bore witness to their genius. How long could this all last? At their feet were the two rucksacks, now filled with the majority of their belongings and a good stock of provisions. Part of Fred couldn't bear to leave any of this behind; he turned his head and observed his twin also gazing around the store with a wistful expression. The glorious setting of the sun suggested that perhaps they were safe for another day, that the game was not finished... but it was. It was over. The death eaters knew that Ron Weasley was with Harry Potter and they were coming, coming for the information that they would extract by any means possible, but the twins as yet unaware of the lethal discovery remained in their colourful shop; now a glaring target for the death eaters wrath.

Seemingly out of nowhere a silvery patronus appeared in the air before them; their Father's voice spoke rapid and urgent. "Boys! They know, get out of there. Get out of there now!" It disappeared and the twins stared at each other dismayed; this was it and they jumped into action, each grabbing a rucksack and linking arms to disapparate, but they could never be quick enough. It was already too late and no matter how many times Fred frantically turned on the spot, they weren't going anywhere. The death eaters were already here.

The front windows imploded from the force of a spell and the twins ducked for cover from the shattered glass raining down on them. Cackling female laughter could be heard from outside as undefined black shapes approached the store front.

"Are the twins coming out to play today?" Bellatrix's voice was mocking as the twins legged it to the interconnecting door leading through to the stairs up to their flat, hoping desperately that the death eaters had somehow overlooked the second door. Fred threw it open, keeping a tight hold of George's hand and proceeded to the foot of the stairs, reaching out to open the second door handle that could be their escape; but more black shapes were waiting outside for them, many more. George cursed and tugged Fred back into the shop, slamming the interconnecting door shut behind them. A single look between them confirmed their next course of action, they were going to do the bold, the daring and leave through their front door.

The twins ducked the array of stunning spells sent in their direction; Fred noted the colour. Capture, not kill, but he knew that they wouldn't be kept alive for long once they realised that the twins had no idea of Harry's current location.

"EXPULSO!" The twins sent a creative array of spells in the direction of the threat and ducked behind a tall row of shelves to shelter from the replying stunners.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!" Bellatrix taunted, her voice sounded close and footfalls could be heard about to round the shelves, but the shop was their weapon and with a flick of Fred's wand it came to their aid. A death eater shrieked as they were assaulted by dozens of fanged frisbees, whilst another clutched their face as gigantic boils erupted and he staggered around blinded. Fireworks burst into the air with bangs and whistles; the distraction enabling the twins to move to the next row of shelves, ducking the few spells that were sent after them. One narrowly missed Fred as it burst through the shelf above his head, sending the stack of extendable ears falling around him. George pulled his twin clear of the items, as more boxes were dislodged from the shelves and threatened to knock them on the head. Fred sent a returning volley through the gaps in the shelving and smiled when he heard the satisfying, solid thump of a body hitting the ground unconscious.

The exit was in sight, escape seemed within their grasp, but Bellatrix Lestrange rounded the shelves where they were crouched.

"Found you!"

Fred spat an obsecnity and began to duel her, his wand flicking and his body weaving to avoid the spells she sent back at him. Sparks erupted between their wands as neither yielded. More figures appeared behind them, George turned to deal with them; his face set with a determination that they were going to make it out of that shop alive. There was none of the gentleness about George that Fred so admired now, he was all fight and adrenaline fueled anger. How dare they? He dispatched the death eaters with powerful stunning spells and lifted them in the air, throwing them against the opposite wall before turning to assist his twin against the woman who had killed Sirius Black.

"Don't worry Baby, I don't want to kill you, not yet anyway. What a waste of those handsome faces that would be", she leered at them both.

Her arrogance got the better of her and with a flick of his wrist Fred sent her wand spinning out of her hand. She gaped at him in dismay and tried to move out of the way of Fred's wand, but with the most satisfying thud yet, Bellatrix slumped to the floor. Their path to the door was free and seizing their chance they leaped through the entrance, the door hanging loosly on its hinges from the force employed by the death eaters as they had forced their way inside. There were shouts from behind them but the twins didn't stop to look back, but pressed forwards to find the edge of the anti-disapparition jinx placed around their store.

Suddenly there was a blast and the twins were forced to dive in opposite directions, Fred managing to reach the corner of a near building, which guarded his back against the continuing onslaught of spells from the remaining death eaters. Instinctively, he knew that they were beyond the range of the death eaters' spell and would be able to leave, but they only had a few seconds before they were overwhelmed. He turned, expecting to see George right behind him as always, but was appalled to observe him sheltering behind a stack of precariously perched crates that the twins had put out for the delivery wizard to collect.

"Expelliarmous!" George's wand sailed through the air, despite the desperation with which he attempted to stop it from leaving his grasp. He was defenceless and Fred had no idea how to reach him with the spells still coming thick and fast. A curse hit the crate nearest George's head, it exploded sending its contents spewing through the air.

"George!"

George craned his head around one of the crates to lock eyes with his twin. "Fred, go!"

Fred stared at George blankly, barely registering what his twin was asking him to do. Leave him? How could George think he'd ever be able to do that?

"Go", his twin urged as more death eaters were entering the scene, smiling in the self satisfied way of people who believe that they have won. Several terrified passers by could be seen trying to escape the commotion taking place; not one person tried to help them. In that moment it seemed that their hard earned popularity counted for nothing.

"I could never leave you! Never!" His voice was laced with emotion, as he attempted to clear his mind and find a way out of this mess; their Father's warning had been too little too late.

Fred reached into the pocket of his striped suit jacket, hardly daring to hope that there would still be some in there. He withdrew his fingers and opened his palm; there was barely a handful of the black powder. Panic set in as Fred doubted whether there would be enough to create total darkness; nevertheless it was the only option left open to him because he sure as hell was not going to abandon George to the death eater's administrations a second time. He threw the tiny handful in the air and immediately instant darkness descended upon them. Fred pointed his wand in the direction in which he knew George to be and shouted "Accio!"

George's wand landed in his palm next to his own, closely followed by a rather bemused George who collided heavily with his twin. Fred felt himself stagger backwards but he didn't fall and grasped George steady around the waist, giving him a moment to adjust himself before they apparated. In a second the shop was out of sight and they were twisting and lurching through the air, the movement jolted their very bones and George was trying his best not to throw up. It was never normally like this when they apparated; they had passed their tests with distinction. The lurching sensations continued and Fred felt stabbing pains shooting up his upper arm and into his shoulder.

George gagged as they hit the ground and Fred was rolled away from him due to the force of the impact. George got to his knees and crawled the short distance over to his twin to check that he was ok. Fred moaned in pain as blood began to stain his clothing; George stroked his forehead soothingly and hastily slung the rucksack off his shoulder and summoned a bottle of Dittany from the first aid kit that they'd packed. He ripped Fred's jacket and shirt in his haste to get to the wound and unstoppered the vial of cloudless liquid. His head spun as he saw the gouge in Fred's flesh; they'd never splinched before.

Fred gritted his teeth as George poured a large measure of the liquid over the wound; it stung like hell and he couldn't help but whimper in pain.

"I know, I'm sorry", George reached to stroke his forehead again and then sat back breathing heavily as Fred's whimpers subsided. George lay Fred's head in his lap and took a moment to survey their surroundings. They were sitting in a field, the grass coarse and dead looking; in the distance a line of trees could be seen partially shrouded by a thin mist that lay close to the ground.

"Where are we?" Fred whispered.

George gripped his hand and intertwined their fingers as they liked to do whenever they felt fear. "I don't know, but I certainly can't see a safe house anywhere".

"No, I can't even smell the sea", Fred said as he sniffed the air.

"Aunt Muriel's isn't by the sea", George responded confused, but then the realisation hit him. "We were thinking of different safe houses so we must be somewhere in between; no wonder you got splinched".

Guilt spread across Fred's face. "God, I'm an idiot!"

"An idiot? Don't be daft, not everything's your fault Fred. We didn't exactly have much time to confirm where we were going. We can't apparate again, not with you splinched. We're going to have to start walking", George frowned.

"Where?" Fred groaned, still unfairly frustrated with himself.

"I'd say Aunt Muriel's would be the best, Mum and Dad will be there, but I bet she's still got a vendetta against us", he grinned.

"How old were we when we set off that dungbomb under her chair?"

"Eight I think. I've honestly no idea why Mum punished us for that one, everyone was overjoyed that she never spent another Christmas with us, including Mum."

Fred shifted himself into an upright position and examined the wound with consternation, as George took out his wand to heal him up.

"We're too exposed here, we need some cover", George said taking charge and indicating the line of trees visible in the horizon. "Can you walk Freddie or do you want me to carry you?" He tried to keep his voice level, but the note of concern remained tangible to Fred.

"There's nothing wrong with my legs", he joked. "Besides it hurts a bit less you know", he said in a reassuring tone.

"A bit less off agony is still agony", George responded dryly. He lifted both rucksacks onto his left shoulder and heaved Fred as carefully as possible off the ground, placing a supporting arm around his waist. Fred cradled his right arm against his chest, wincing as each step jarred the injury. They made their way slowly towards the trees, but after several minutes of walking they didn't seem any closer. George increased their pace, feeling awful when Fred whimpered, but they stood out a mile for any death eaters scanning the countryside from the air.

"Sorry Fred, but we need cover", George apologised profusely.

But Fred grinned,"don't worry I like it when you're being bossy. Savour the fact that I enjoy taking no orders from anyone apart from you".

"Well you know what you'd get if you didn't do what you were told Freddie", he bantered back. Fred arched one eyebrow and tightened his grip around George's waist, his brown eyes questioning. The left corner of George's mouth turned up slightly higher than the other, as his eyes flashed at Fred playfully and he lightly swatted Fred on the bum. Fred let out a giggle and tried to swat him back, but George kept his hand trapped on his waist, as the cover they needed finally appeared within a defined distance, losing its mirage like effect.

George set Fred down gently by a tree and summoned a roll of bandages from the other rucksack, making a sling to support Fred's weakened arm. Fred's teeth clicked together unconsciously from the cold that had accompanied the darkening skies; although it was technically the beginning of Spring there were no signs of warmer weather. Fred felt that it was almost as if Voldemort had control of the skies and that there would be no sun until everything was over.

"It's a bit risky conjuring some fire, but we've got coats, hats and blankets," George interjected cheerfully. "If you're feeling hungry Freddie we've got cold beans, cold bread, some cold ham and ah good biscuits." George maintained his cheerful tone as he pulled out several tins and examined them.

"Cold things then?" Fred laughed and took the packet of digestives from George, but changing his mind handed the packet back to him. "I'm still sick of the sight of these, have as many as you want", he said thinking of the amount his Mother had stuffed down his throat when he'd donated blood to his twin.

"They were your favourite", George frowned, taking one and biting a large chunk out of the crumbly biscuit.

"You can have too much of a good thing", he laughed, taking a piece of bread and ham instead.

Half an hour later they were both sat close together with their backs against the old oak tree, wrapped up warmly in blankets and with hats pulled down over their ears. Hats that each had a pom pom at the end and which they had owned for years. Fred had always eagerly professed that they made bobble hats look cool, no matter how many times George had replied that rather they looked like adorable idiots.

"This is actually quite nice", Fred snuggled closer to George to benefit from his body heat and gazed up at the map of stars which could be spotted between the canopy of trees.

George nodded, pulling the blankets up to his chin. "Yeah, once you forget that death eaters are after us". They both laughed and exchanged fond smiles and looks.

"Not to mention that the cold has found its way to my special place," George grinned. Fred spluttered with laughter, his shoulders shaking with mirth and the skin crinkling around the corners of his eyes.

"You'll have to rub that warm yourself George", Fred grinned, barely managing to get his words out. He took his twin's hands blew on them and rubbed them between his.

"Why? You did it before?" George teased him.

"You were unconscious! And that was for medical reasons George", Fred pretended to adjust the blanket as he felt his face burning crimson and hoped that George wouldn't notice the effect that his teasing was having on him, but the descending darkness provided concealment; however not from the increased pitch of his voice.

"Oh so you like to touch me when I'm sleeping? You saucy thing!" George smiled, his heart fluttering as he contemplated where this conversation could lead to. Fred gulped; _George wouldn't find this so amusing if he knew._

He struggled to play along, although his heart wasn't in the banter. "Says you feeling my arse up".

They both laughed, false laughs and quickly moved on to something less intimate.

"How's your arm feeling?"

George slipped one of his lovingly around Fred's shoulders and held him close.

"Much better now thank you... George?"

"Yes Freddie?"

"I...I wanted to...forget it...it doesn't matter", he closed his mouth, regretting that he'd even considered telling him.

"You sure?" Fred could detect the disappointment in George's voice and could only admire his patience when he must be itching to know what was wrong.

"Yeah I'm sure". _No, I'm not. I want to tell you George, but I fear the consequences if I do._

The darkness left Fred with very little to think about outside of his turmoil of passionate and chaotic emotions; his anger, his self disgust and his tender love for his beloved twin. He half wished that he'd freeze to death in the night and not have to face any of it, but he was too selfless to seek an escape to his pain that would cause agony to his twin.

* * *

The twins trudged along winding roads and through further wooded areas as they made their way slowly to Aunt Muriel's house. There was little to indicate that they were heading in the right direction apart from their use of the four point spell. Although Fred's arm was steadily on the mend, George had firmly ruled that it was still too dangerous yet for them to attempt apparition again. The sky today was particularly dark and clouded and the cold felt more biting than ever, carried as it was by a harsh wind. The twins had been travelling for nearly a week now and were filled with a deep unease at the thought of the worry the rest of the family must be feeling at their disappearance.

George led whilst Fred followed in his wake, moving to his side when the terrain allowed it. Although there were few people to encounter in this remote area of Devon, the twins kept themselves hidden whenever they came across muggles on countryside rambles; anyone of whom could quite easily have been a death eater informant in disguise. Fred clutched his jacket closer to him as the cold attacked him, it felt thick and penetrating as he could feel it deep within him; it seemed to bite at his very soul. Unhappiness filled him and he shivered; he tried to think of something happy to focus his mind on but all of his good memories appeared unreachable. He raised the bottle of water that George had handed him to his lips, but it was completely frozen.

"George can you feel it?" His twin nodded and turned back to him grasping his arm tightly. Fred noted the pallor of his face and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly; despite his increasing suspicions of the cause of the coldness. It felt as if something was feeding from his joyful inner core, as Fred was consumed by his most depressing thoughts. Both twins felt full of despair, lacking in hope and feeling as if they'd never be happy again.

Dozens of Dementors surrounded this veritable feast of human happiness, it tasted delicious, sumptuous; they wanted to gorge themselves on it and suck out every inch of happiness, to take their beautiful souls and leave them empty shells. A fate worse than death. The Dementors surrounded them, cutting off all means of escape.

George struggled to breath as the clammy coldness filled his lungs and his heart nearly stopped at the sound of hoarse rattling breath. Fred looked around in horror as the evil creatures surrounded them and reached out scabbed and rotting arms towards them. He tried to fight off the sensations but as his happiness was stolen from him, he was left with the depression and dark thoughts that had for months disturbed his mind. Images flashed before his eyes of George suffering covered in blood and the voices of his family filled his head; their disgust and shock reverberating through him.

_You're bloody disgusting, an abomination, a piece of filth._

_And I always looked up to you; you make me sick._

_Look at the embarrassment you're going to cause me, I'm not going to advance at the Ministry if everyone knows that my brother's a disturbed freak!_

_This had better be one of your jokes Fred! God it isn't is it? I can see the truth in your eyes, you can't hide it. Everyone will know, everyone will hate you, be disgusted by the way that you look at him._

_You're not a Weasley Fred, you're not human, you're a disturbed freak who should be locked away for the rest of his life!_

_You are no son of mine!_

_Get out of my house! GET OUT! I can't believe that I raised someone like you, I've brought you up better than this. You're an embarrassment to all of us and I won't stand for it any longer. We'll be better without you, happier; it would be better if you were dead._

_Stay away from me! Don't touch me! I never want you to touch me again; I never want to see you ever again. We're finished! You make me sick Fred and to think that I ever loved someone as disturbed as you. I hate you! What we had was beautiful, perfect and now you've destroyed it. You're not my twin..._

Wretched sobs escaped from Fred's chest and he collapsed to the ground broken; his will to fight destroyed. _Let them take out my soul._

George saw his twin collapse next to him. "Come on Fred, we can do this if we fight them together. Come on, expecto, expecto patronum". A thin silvery wisp erupted from George's wand, but soon dissolved into nothing on the freezing air. A dementor dived and started feeding from Fred.

"No, get away from him, get away!"

Two rotted hands pulled Fred away from him, dividing them made them weaker and the Dementors saw this. Saw how powerful their feast was and were determined to stop them from using that power so they could glut themselves.

George tried to cast the charm again, but he was weakening, his head dizzy. He knew that he was close to collapse and then they would be finished. He tried to remain strong for the both of them, banishing the accusing voices and the bloody images from his mind.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A russet coloured Fox burst from the tip of his wand and bowled through the Dementors as light lit up the pitch black dark. The Dementors fled the light; it burnt them. The Fox came to a halt and looked around, it's expression forlorn, as he searched vainly for his companion. Whining, he disappeared into the air. George sank to his knees, the voices were gone with the Dementors but he still felt like he'd been sucked dry. He crawled to Fred on the verge of passing out, knowing that if he did they would both likely die here. The Dementors would be back in greater numbers. Reaching his twin, whose expression looked wiped clear, he slipped an arm around him as tightly as he could and disapparated.

They appeared on the path leading up to Aunt Muriel's 's house, George's vision blurred as he heard terrified voices approaching them before his head hit the ground unconscious.

Both twins had experienced hell that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any further comments/Opinions on the storyline would be much appreciated. I like hearing what you think!


	18. Suffer Silently

"Molly, it's the twins!" Arthur shouted as he scrambled to the door and came to an abrupt standstill at the shell shocked looks on both of his sons unconscious faces.

"And about time too," Mrs Weasley shrieked, slamming down a knife that she'd been using to chop vegetables. "Those irresponsible boys have got a lot to answer for this time. Did they care that I'd be worried sick? Of course not!" She marched towards the door ready to give them another piece of her mind.

"Molly..." Arthur tried to stem the tirade. "Hurry! They're-

"Did they care that their capture could be the end of us all? Oh no! Everything's a joke to them. They can't take anything seriously. They always-" She was cut off mid rant by the sight of her sons pale faces, the clammy sheen to their skin and the shallowness of their breathing. She screamed, causing the others inside the house to come running outside, including Aunt Muriel who was chuntering rudely under her breath about all the commotion.

Fred had begun to come around, covering his ears and whimpering quietly at the sound of Mrs Weasley's angry voice. It had taken on exactly the same tone as when it had been echoing around his head condemning him for his unnatural feelings for his twin. Even though the Dementors had gone, the voices of his family and George still echoed around his head. It was sheer torture and he wanted to die. The mental breakdown that had been threatening to consume him for months now too over and he pulled himself to a seating position, covering his face with his hands and silently sobbing.

Mrs Weasley crouched down next to him whilst Mr Weasley attended to George. "Fred, it's ok my baby. You're safe now. What happened?" She tried to gently pull his fingers away from his face, but he pulled back from her touch as if stung.

"Remus, what?" She croaked.

Lupin came forward and knelt beside George, quickly examining him. "Dementors", he said with authority. "They're in a bad way, there must have been hundreds of them".

Mrs Weasley gasped, "They've taken their souls!" She shook Fred as if hoping to hear his soul rattling inside his body.

"No Molly, they got away in time, but it looks as if they started performing the kiss on Fred. George is in a slightly better state even though he's unconscious."

Fred suddenly retched, spewing up the contents of his stomach forcing him to move his hands away from his face. The onlookers were horrified to see the dead look in his eyes; it was almost as if he had had his soul taken from him. Immediately after he had finished retching he covered his face once again, his body shaking. Remus knelt down beside Fred and placed a gentle hand on his shouder.

"Fred", he said softly. "Listen to me. Whatever you heard, whatever those Dementors made you feel don't let it consume you. That's what those creatures want". He drew to his feet and turned to Mrs Weasley.

"They're going to be fine. With all the despair caused by this war it's no wonder that the Dementors are multiplying in greater numbers than we've ever seen before. With all their jokes and laughter the twins would have been a feast for them; one of them must have cast a powerful patronus for them to get out of there alive," he said. He pulled a huge block of chocolate out of his pocket and handed it to Mrs Weasley.

Another woman emerged from the house, carrying what appeared to be a bundle of blankets. "Is everything all right?" She too stopped abruptly at the state the twins were in and reflexively held the bundle of blankets closer to her chest.

"The twins were attacked by Dementors", Remus filled her in, walking over to his wife and peering into the bundle of blankets. His tired and lined face immediately lit up at the sight of the baby wrapped up snuggly, still fast asleep. "I'm surprised Teddy hasn't woken up", he smiled in adoration at his son and placed an arm around Tonks' shoulders.

George groaned as he struggled to sit up, still feeling cold, hopeless and empty of happiness. "Take it easy George", Mr Weasley said quietly, keeping a firm grip on George's arms and continuing to mutter spells. George nearly choked when his Mother shoved a large portion of chocolate into his mouth and he struggled to chew it, as every muscle in his body felt weak and drained of energy. Remembering what had happened he looked around frantically for Fred, not seeing him until he turned to look behind him; the slump of his twin's body revealing his pure and utter misery. Freeing himself from his Father's restraint, George half crawled, half staggered over to where Fred was sat unmoving.

"Fred? It's ok now. We're safe", George soothed, running a hand down his back and pressing his face against the silky ginger head. "Safe", he repeated withdrawing and sitting back on his haunches opposite him, whlist Mrs Weasley circled like a vulture, ready to force feed Fred chocolate should the opportunity arise. A single brown eye became visible through an increase in the gap between Fred's fingers at the much loved and familiar sound of George's baritone voice. It gradually became wider revealing more of his pale face and eventually Fred dropped his hands altogether and threw himself at his twin, clinging to him like he would never let go. George held him tightly around the waist as their Mother stroked Fred's hair; the worry and concern lighting up the brown eyes that the twins had inherited from her.

"My poor boys. What happened? Why couldn't you apparate straight here?"

"Dad's warning was too late, we had to fight our way out of the shop and then we ended up between the safe houses with Fred splinched so we couldn't apparate again," he told her quickly; his voice slightly muffled by how close Fred remained pressed against him.

"Let's get you inside. Fred let go of George a second sweetheart", she urged gently as Arthur and Remus pulled both twins to a standing position, but Fred refused to budge; his grip only becoming tighter as he pressed his tear streaked face into the curve of George's neck where it met his collarbone. George too refused to let go and so they walked awkwardly sideways into the living room where they both slumped onto one of Aunt Muriel's old chintz sofas. The room was old fashioned to say the least with ugly stuffed animals and china plates lining one of the walls, reminding both twins heavily of Umbridge's office during their last year at Hogwarts; a room with which they'd become uncomfortably familiar with due to their defiant stance against her. Fred wrinkled his nose against the sour, mouldy smell of the room, pressing it against George's skin and inhaling the warm, wonderful, familiar scent deeply. It was hard to describe exactly what that scent was, but it was so uniquely George that it did much to comfort him and bring him back from the brink.

Aunt Muriel stomped into the living room, her cane thudding on the carpetted floor as she surveyed the twins with strong dislike. "I don't know what men are coming to these days", she sniffed, her strongly wrinkled face radiating pretension. "In my day they didn't sit around crying and clutching each other!"

"They're still boys"; it was with great difficulty that Mrs Weasley prevented herself from snapping at her aunt as she observed the way the twins held each other with tenderness. She had always been deeply touched by the deep bond that she had witnessed existing between them. Her other children had fought and bickered with each other over toys and treats, but not Fred and George. They had always shared everything with each other, their frequent banter not concealing how much they obviously loved one another. It was not often however that they allowed themselves to be seen like that in public, all such moments usually kept between the two of them, meaning that nobody knew just how close they really were.

A quarter of an hour later the twins were safely tucked up in a large double bed in the attic of Aunt Muriel's house, a sleeping arrangement that suited then perfectly with their current need; although Mrs Weasley had profusely apologised for them having to share. Muriel's unwillingness to accomodate the twins at all had landed them the darkest, tiniest room in the house, without any natural light and only a few half broken items of furniture. Despite their Mother's entreaty she had refused point blank to allow them to transfigure the bed into two, but both twins were secretly pleased with Muriel's refusal as it put an end to awkwardly slipping into each other's beds. It would have been considered a depressing room by anyone apart from the twins who considered Muriel's attitude towards them to be insignificant in the face of what they had suffered.

"How did we get out of there?" Fred whispered from across the huge bed, another carefully placed space between them.

"I managed to cast quite a strong patronus", George whispered back.

"What memory did you focus on?"

George paused, how was he to describe this? "It wasn't a memory exactly, it was just how happy I am whenever I'm with you. I thought of you Fred, how much I love you. It's the most powerful feeling I have. My Fox missed its mate though", he smiled wincing slightly at the double meaning in 'mate'.

Immediately the gap between them was filled as Fred scooted over and slipped his arms around his twin. George pressed a kiss to the top of his head and relaxed into the mattress, feeling his hope and happiness slowly starting to seep back into him as he lay there with Fred.

"Did you hear voices?" Fred suddenly asked him.

"Yeah, but is it alright if we don't talk about it?"

"Sure", Fred replied relieved that no explanations were necessary; although he couldn't help but wonder what kind of voices George had been compelled to listen to, as he shuddered from the echoes that would never be banished.

"God I hope they don't hurt Ginny at Hogwarts now they know we've been helping Harry", George spoke suddenly, wishing that their younger sister could have come into hiding with them.

"I know, hopefully being under age should protect her".

"Charlie's out of reach abroad".

"And Percy, well he's saved himself by cutting all ties with us", Fred finished, his tone a condemnation of Percy's actions but with a tint of relief that he too was safe. They fell asleep in that huge bed cuddled together, praying that their family would remain safe until the war was over; though at one of its darkest points there seemed to be no escape that would not end in Voldemort's victory.

* * *

During their first week at Aunt Muriel's the twins had submitted to her constant jibes and snubs with grace and patience, not rising to her nasty comments about their appearance, behaviour or chosen career path. But enough was enough and Fred's patience was wearing thin. They were all grateful for her taking them in with the fidelius charm cast over the dwelling, but her overbearing and rude manner was driving the twins and their parents to frustration.

"Your ears are lopsided", she commented that morning at breakfast. George paused through a mouthful of cereal and looked back at her politely.

"So I've noticed Aunt Muriel", he said evenly. He glanced to his right and observed Fred clenching his spoon so tightly that the metal was nearly bending and a small notch had been made in the table's wooden surface where Fred had been holding it upright. Since the encounter with the Dementors he had become quieter, diminished, but now he was staring across the table at Aunt Muriel with a glare which suggested the old Fred Weasley had returned if only temporarily. Every time Muriel attacked George, Fred would be roused from his state of quiet reflection before sinking back into his stupor. Therefore George was fully expecting him to deflate again, but it seemed that this time he had finally had enough.

George prised the spoon out of his grasp before he did some severe damage to the table, that would serve to provide Muriel with some additional ammunition with which to round on them.

"Something to say young man?" Muriel challenged him.

"Yes", he hissed. "Stop making nasty comments about my twin you old hag!"

George winced waiting for Muriel to explode, but luckily she seemed to have missed the last part even though Fred had shouted it. She left the kitchen muttering about the insufferable rudeness of the younger generation. As soon as she had gone Fred turned to their parents.

"Mum, Dad please let us go to Shell Cottage. If I spend another minute with that old witch I'm going to go nuts", he said earnestly.

"Bill can't have anyone else", Mrs Weasley said before noticing the twins confused looks. "Oh gosh I haven't told you have I? Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna Lovegood, Ollivander and a goblin are there! I want to see my Ron, but we don't want to expose ourselves by moving between the safe houses unless absolutely necessary." She soon related how the trio had escaped from Malfy Manor, all the while fretting over how much trouble they were getting into.

"Just like you two have been", she smiled sadly at them. Fred and George exchanged looks; they certainly had seen more than their fair share of action.

"Mum if we have to, we'll become secret keepers of a tent at the foot of the garden, we don't want to be a problem but-"

"Of course you're not a problem", she exclaimed. "Stay here boys where I know you're safe. It's been nice getting to spend some more time with you both", she appealed.

This immediately swayed George who smiled widely. "Of course we'll stay Mum; we can put up with the old bat."

A while later they were walking around idly outside, taking care to remain within the boundary of the fidelius charm. Fred kicked at several stones and sighed, already he was feeling restless and longing for the freedom that they'd enjoyed together in their flat. The garden was overgrown and in much need of attention, but the twins had managed to find themselves a peaceful spot by a bubbling stream running along one side of the boundary. Here they sat in the weak spring sunshine and listened to the birds singing in spite of everything that was occurring.

"It was nice what Mum said about wanting us with her", George introduced conversation after they had sat quietly for a few minutes, each reflecting upon recent events.

Fred hated himself even more for how he replied but the pessimism left by the Dementors had embedded itself deeply within him. "It's only because she can't have any of the others that she wants us".

George felt unsure how to respond; their Mother's frequent rants at them had left Fred bitter and although George knew that she loved them he too had sometimes felt that they were their Mother's least favourite. How to persuade Fred though?

"You must know that's not true Fred", he said softly after a short pause.

"I don't know what's real anymore George", he confessed. George listened to the lost tone in his voice and was horrified. How had it come to this? The war had taken a deep toll on the twins and keeping up their joking exteriors had become an exhausting task. George knew that Fred was keeping a secret from him just like he was hiding from him, but now the full extent of what this secret had done to him was revealed. George could clearly see that the emotional impact had been devastating. With Fred's open and passionate personality he couldn't keep such a secret without there being an adverse effect on his psyche; George on the other hand with his more relaxed and careful temperament, although not feeling the pain of his feelings any less knew how to control it. He felt compelled to tell Fred his own secret, but doubted that it would help Fred in any way. Fred needed him there as his rock, destroying their relationship by confessing how he felt would only tear Fred apart further. Little did George know that such a confession would have set Fred at peace.

George sighed. "I can't understand and help you if you don't tell me Freddie, if you keep shutting me out".

"I'm sorry George, but I don't have a choice". He got up and walked away further along the garden out of George's sight, seeking some relief by the infliction of more cuts upon his arm. He expected George to follow, but he didn't.

* * *

From that moment on it couldn't be ignored that the twins were hiding things from each other. Undoubtedly it put strain on their relationship, but with the innate strength of that relationship it was easy to bear the toll although the pain of doing so was considerable. Careful to avoid sensitive topics by day, they still woke to find themselves entwined with the other; an unconscious need. But the secrets between them were not touched upon even though they hovered within reach enticingly near; neither twin yet bold enough to break those secrets apart.

"We're due to do another Potterwatch Fred if you're up for it mate", George informed his twin on another visit to the spring at the edge of the garden. It had become their personal retreat; a place to go to when they needed to clear their heads of their respective burdens.

"Definitely George, I was thinking we could have Kingsley and Remus as guests or do you think we should owl Lee?"

"All Lee will be able to talk about is Angelina and that's the least you need. No, we'll ask Remus and Kingsley at the next meeting."

Fred nodded relieved, as much as he liked Lee he had enough to bear without having to also think about the mess with Angelina.

Remus and Kingsley were more than willing to take part in their next broadcast, as they firmly believed that the twins Potterwatch to be an excellent way of reaching out to people. The four of them were sat around Muriel's kitchen table, Remus nearly quivering with excitement as for the first time in many years he felt like a Marauder again. Fred tapped their wireless set and the broadcast began.

"Welcome to another Potterwatch listeners. We apologise for our temporary absence from the airways, due to us nearly being demented by Dementors-"

"But thankfully we managed to keep our sanity-"

"Even though we were less than sane in the first place-"

"So we're back with an extra special broadcast with two guest speakers. Royal what can you tell our listeners about what the Order of the Phoenix is doing to ensure their safety?" George nodded at Kingsley to begin the speech that he'd rehearsed earlier. Half an hour later and the broadcast was finished, Fred had been as witty as ever, so funny in fact that if George hadn't known better it would have been possible to believe that he was his usual carefree, affable self.

Kingsley stood up and shook hands with each twin. "It was an honour lads thank you. You're doing some great work here, it's just what we need to rouse support".

"Anything we can do to help", George answered whilst Fred nodded by his side lost for words. There had been a definite note of respect to Kingsley's voice; neither twin had ever dared to imagine that people would value them for anything other than a laugh.

It was becoming easier to live with their irritable great aunt as the twins had exuded their charm and managed to work their way into her affections by carrying out as many tasks for her as possible. Hence with their combined effort the garden had lost its wild look and as a result of their labours Muriel now limited herself to a few muttered comments under her breath about their 'insolence'.

George sat cross legged alone in their attic room waiting for his turn to use the bathroom; a rather grotty room despite the attempts of their Mother to clean it. Fred had been half serious when he had suggested they use a bucket instead. After a momentary hesitation George sprang off the bed, the mattress' springs creaking with his movement. He crossed the room to the wardrobe where they'd stashed some of their belongings and opened the right door. Reaching his arm in, he withdrew a small card from the pocket of one of his jackets. The pattern of hearts embossed onto its front disclosed that it was a Valentine's card; it had been rather unexpectedly pushed through their letterbox as George found it rather difficult to believe that he could have someone secretly admiring him. It was probably a joke.

_I love my life because it gave me you._

_I love you because you are my life._

_My heart and soul are yours to keep._

_I just wish I knew if you could ever be mine._

_All my love, your very secret admirer x_

George had no idea what had made him keep it, but the words had touched him deeply. They were the words he wished that he could say to Fred. He even imagined Fred saying those words to him in that soft melodious voice of his and groaned aloud, feeling warmth flood through him and into his groin. _Oh shit._

Unbuckling his jeans he slipped a long fingered hand inside them, even though his face was burning with shame, but this wasn't going anywhere unless he did something about it. He began to stroke himself slowly, exhaling in relief and gradually quickening his movements. "Fred," he sighed aloud.

His head jerked up suddenly and he saw the shadowy figure outlined in the doorway.


	19. Birthday Wishes

"George?" Fred's face was a mingled mask of surprise and shock as he gawped at his twin standing by the wardrobe with his hand shoved down his jeans. George cursed under his breath and quickly rebuckled them. Noticing that the now slightly crumpled card was still clutched in his left hand, he shoved it back into his jacket pocket and pulled the wardrobe door shut forcefully. He leant his back against it for support, as his knees felt weak with trepidation at what Fred could have heard. How long had he been standing there? Judging by the confusion on his face he must have heard it, this wasn't the first time they'd walked in on one another in such a circumstance, but it had never been awkward like this. It had always been funny and they'd teased each other for being horny. George could see no traces of amusement on Fred's face and waited with a pounding heart for him to speak.

"Did I hear you say my name?" His voice was quiet, as his brown eyes regarded George gently, but his twin avoided them and focused intently on the dillapidated state of the floorboards, missing the hope there that would have been clear if he had looked up.

"No of course not. Look I'm sorry it won't happen again, I was just feeling... well you know". He was surprised with the firmness to his voice and felt relief flood him as he waited on tenterhooks to see whether his lie had been a convincing one.

"Oh, it's fine George. No need to be embarrassed with me mate". Fred crossed the room over to their bed and sat down; the hopeful spark gone to be replaced by fear. _Oh God. He's going to want to know why I thought he was sighing my name. Why the hell did I open my stupid mouth?_

"I'll be back in a min," George muttered as he left to use the bathroom. Fred looked after him sadly wondering what this would now mean for them as he rested a burdened head on his hand. He inwardly cursed himself for allowing his hopes to be ignited, though he had been temporarily so sure about what he'd heard. _Great, now my mind's playing tricks on me._

He crawled underneath the duvet miserably and pretended to be asleep when his twin returned to the room. He felt the mattress dip as George climbed in on the other side of the bed and waited for him to scoot up next to him as usual, but George stayed where he was. Fred risked a glance over his shoulder and was greeted with his twin's back; the space between them seemed like miles rather than the small gap it actually was. Fred took this as proof of George's suspicion and failed to stem the tide of panic that coursed through him; he had no idea of course that George was equally terrified and not suspicious of him in the slightest. Each twin dreaded that the other had discovered their secret, both believing that the other's behaviour confirmed this, not daring to think that rather it was due to the other feeling the same way and so the twins unknowingly compounded the other's pain.

* * *

The following morning would have been agonisingly awkward if both twins had not decided to ignore what had happened and act normally, causing them to internally sigh with relief that for the time being their other half remained blissfully unaware of their feelings. George half wished that Fred had been sure of what he'd heard; whatever the consequences of this at least he would have been free of his burden. However they completed their chores together in amiable companionship, laughing at the gnomes dazed expressions as they tossed them out of Muriel's garden.

"Look at the size of that one", Fred exclaimed, pointing at a particularly nasty looking gnome who was stubbornly refusing to be kicked out of the garden. The task was an uncommonly frustrating one as each time they believed themselves to be finished several more gnomes would be discovered, who had manged to sneak their way back in unnoticed.

"This one looks like Umbridge", George laughed, indicating one with a toad like face.

"Nah, it's not wearing pink," Fred replied.

"I hate that colour now," George pretended to shudder.

"Me too. Hey I was thinking we could set up an owl order business here; we may as well make a bit of cash if we can", Fred suggested.

"Yeah, the dining room isn't used at all apart from Order meetings and we've managed to bring all our kit with us. I'm not sure Aunt Muriel is going to like it though," George said . He chucked the toad like gnome over the hedge and whistled at the distance he'd scored.

"New record mate," Fred smiled. They'd been keeping things light, playful and friendly all day; there was nothing to hint at the increased intimacy that had developed between them over the last eight months.

Once the garden was de-gnomed they trudged back into the house, their faces both streaked with dirt and sweat. Muriel's snores could be heard from the front room but George peered in to check that she was indeed safely asleep before they entered the dining room.

"This will do nicely," Fred concluded. He examined the empty shelving with plenty of space for their products and the large table for their potion making kit.

"Do you think we should ask permission. This is someone else's house Fred," George frowned slightly as he too examined the room.

"You know she'll only refuse. Once we've started she can't very well stop us. No, we'll just send a few owls to our regular customers and see how we go from there".

"But don't you think it might be a bit risky? If the death eaters intercept one of the owls they might track it here. We'd be putting everyone in danger Fred," George informed his twin. It had always been this way between them, Fred coming up with the majority of the crazy ideas and George working out how they could be implemented with the least amount of damage.

"Oh it'll be fine", Fred replied airily. "Let's bring some of our stuff down." George followed his twin out of the room and they collected their potion making kit, ingredients. address book and a whole load of products from their room. After several trips upstarirs Aunt Muriel's dining room was starting to vaguely resemble their laboratory and George was giggling at the sight of Fred lovingly fingering some of their products.

"I've missed you", he said to the small stack of skiving snackboxes.

"They've probably destroyed everything we left in the shop. Maybe even set it on fire. It would go up like matchsticks with all those wooden shelves and staircases", George fretted.

"Not with the booby traps we set. They've definitely run away screaming," Fred chuckled at the thought and carried on laying out their things, whilst George flicked through their address book and jotted down the names of the people they'd owl first; hopefully word would quickly spread that they were in operation again and both twins were sure that their most loyal customer base could be trusted not to betray them to the death eaters.

Mrs Weasley bustled into the room. "Ah boys I thought I heard you two in here. Dinner is ready." She paused and blinked several times at the sight of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes merchandise lining Muriel's shelves and table.

"What are you two up to now?" She asked weakly, while the twins exchanged surprised looks, having fully prepared themselves for another of their Mother's explosions.

"An owl order business again. Don't worry Mum, we're not stupid enough to give people the address, we'll be sending owls to them. If perhaps we could borrow Errol and-"

"Oh ok, as long as you take all the necessery precautions dears," she smiled at them and examined some of their products. "What does this one do?"

"It's a punching telescope," George's voice was surprised and Fred was nothing short of flabbergasted. They hadn't expected their Mother to agree without first many angry words being exchanged, but then again she hadn't shouted at them once since they had arrived; a huge shock considering that there had barely been a single day living at home when they had escaped some kind of reprimand or rebuke.

"Ingenious. Now come and eat; I am determined to put some meat on the pair of you if it's the last thing I do," she declared pointing them towards the kitchen. Although neither twin had much appetite, it couldn't be denied that the smell of their Mother's beef stew was somewhat enticing.

Only a day after they had sent out the first owls informing people of the business, the first ones returned swooping in through the open kitchen window and bearing letters with large orders for the twins to fulfill. It was invigorating to have something to direct their energies on that did not involve household tasks, the escape from monotony sparing each twin partially from their respective worries and fears.

"That will be 5 galleons, 7 sickles and three knuts," George added the order up. "They want a skiving snackbox, three trick wands and an extendable ear".

"Excellent. We need all the money we can get if we want to expand the business George. Hogsmeade and then maybe America. Who knows what we could do," Fred said with enthusiasm.

George smiled at his twins ambition; although the fear inside him asked whether they would be able to complete all of their new dreams together. _If he dies you won't want to expand the business will you George? You'll be dead inside._ He felt tears brimming in his eyes as he felt that the final showdown with Voldemort was only just around the corner, but hastily wiped them before Fred saw. _I'm being silly._

"It would be amazing," he agreed. "We'd be famous", he dared to dream.

"Or infamous," Fred grinned wickedly. "Bringing mayhem to every continent. How about that for a catchy new slogan?"

"Sounds great, but sorry to cut your wings, we've got nowhere near enough money to open a new store. We don't even completely own our building yet. Hopefully they'll forgive us a few late repayments with everything that's been going on." George sighed.

Fred frowned, visibly sunken. He crumpled up the doodle of their Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Empire and tossed it in the direction of the waste bin. George was right, it would never happen; especially not if... He shuddered and wiped away a stray tear before George could see and be concerned. Excusing himself to the bathroom, he stood in front of the mirror praying (although neither twin was religious) that the deep foreboding in the pit of his soul was not the unwelcome gift of foresight. George paced Aunt Muriel's dining room distractedly. He wanted it all to be over so that he knew one way or the other, or did he? If the worst was going to happen he wanted to stop time completely. Pausing in his pacing by the waste bin, he fished out Fred's drawing and smoothed out the creases. They were going to make this dream happen, nothing was going to stand in their way; not even death would be able to tear them apart.

* * *

The first of April was soon upon them; April fools day and most importantly it was the twins' twentieth birthday. George awoke early and lay awake staring at the ceiling; he had expected to be excited for today, they loved their birthday even though today's meant that they were now no longer teenagers. A rather scary thought as George wondered where all the years had gone; it had seemed barely anytime at all since they had first boarded the Hogwarts Express. He remembered how awed they'd been when they had made their way onto the platform, clinging to each other in excitement. The train had looked massive to the two tiny eleven year old boys as smoke had billowed from the glistening, scarlet engine. The start of their life at Hogwarts passed vividly before his eyes. Finding the Marauder's map in their first year and joining the Quiditch team in their second.

The third entered his mind; the twins had had an astonishing grow spurt over the summer; a rather satsifying event considering that Mrs Weasley had been sure they would be the shortest of her sons, but they'd certainly proved her wrong and ended up the tallest. That year had been rather exciting with Harry Potter joining the school and the twins had started to become popular, gaining their reputation as pranksters in chief. Their fourth year had not been so fun with their sister being adducted and nearly dying in the Chamber of Secrets. Now their fifth year at Hogwarts flashed before him, they'd generously handed over the Marauders Map, taken their owls and started inventing. There had been that nasty incident with the Boggart but it hadn't been a bad year, considering everybody was terrified about the so called mass murderer being on the loose.

The start of their sixth year had been dissappointing with their Mother's reaction to the owls they'd received and the discovery of their joke shop plans, as was their failure to enter the tournament. But it had been an entertaining year with the Triwizard Tournament, (not to mention that their hair had been on point) until Voldemort's return and Cedric's death. They hadn't really known Cedric well despite him being in their year, as he was in with the cool crowd, but they had still been deeply saddened and reminded of their fear of losing one another. Their final year at the school had been horrendous; constant detentions, being kicked off the Quiditch team and run ins with the toad; although the DA and their finalised plans for the joke shop had made it bearable. Last year had been their crowning achievement thanks to the money given them by Harry and this year, well it had been unlike any other George thought, as he reflected on everything that had happened since they had taken Harry away from Privet Drive.

More than anything else he was terrified that this could be the last birthday that they'd ever share together. George breathed deeply trying to calm himself, but never before had their birthday given him so many painful thoughts. He heard Fred yawn next to him, the sound slightly muffled by the duvet that he'd pulled over his head and smiled. It was their birthday. This was no time for him to dwell on his fears.

"Fred! Freddie!" George shook his twin awake. Fred grumbled at him for five more minutes, but suddenly remembering what day it was he sat up and beamed at George.

"Happy Birthday Georgie!"

"Happy Birthday Freddie!" Fred pulled him in for a tight hug and kissed him gently on the forehead, neither daring to repeat their Christmas kiss on the lips.

"I can't quite believe we're 20", George exclaimed.

"Neither can I, we're getting old Georgie boy. Mum's going to expect us to stop joking around", Fred said.

George shook his head. "Whatever age we are she knows that's never going to happen".

"Yeah, when we've got those huge white beards we'll still be causing mayhem!"

"I think the amount of mayhem we can cause may be limited if we're both hobbling around on sticks", George replied smiling. Fred pulled a disgusted face at the thought of growing old and infirm.

George grinned and leaned in close pretending to inspect his hair. "I think I can see your first white hair Fred," he teased.

Fred rubbed George's hair affectionately and reached underneath their bed for a small gift wrapped box whilst George did the same, retrieving an identically sized present.

"Do you think we've got each the same thing again like last year?"

"Great minds think alike," Fred laughed as they swapped gifts. "Good job we bought them early or you would have got one of my socks".

Both twins eagerly tore at the wrapping paper to reveal dark blue jewellery boxes. They raised their heads to exchange smiles before opening their boxes to reveal small pendants on silver chains. Fred lifted his out of the box; it was shaped like a G and inlaid with tiny purple crystals. George looked at his own; it was shaped like an F and inlaid with tiny yellow crystals. They regarded each other tenderly and fastened the chains around each other's necks.

"Thank you Fred, it's lovely". George held the pendant between his forefinger and thumb and admired the sparkle of the crystals.

"I'm glad you like it, thank you for mine. I thought it could be like a good luck charm you know," Fred said.

George nodded. "That's what I was thinking too," George replied softly. "But as long as we're together I think we'll have all the good luck we need."

They dressed, both pulling on their blue jumpers with their initials. When they went downstairs Mr and Mrs Weasley were already in the kitchen; their Mother making the last touches to their birthday cake with their favourite buttercream icing. Mr Weasley had his nose in the latest copy of the Daily Prophet and was shaking his head as he flicked through each page; no doubt disgusted by the latest lies and pure blood propaganda to be published.

"Molly! Can you believe this? They're saying that the Order is trying to take over the wizarding world. Take over? We're trying to save them, the stupid-" He looked up and saw the twins standing in the doorway, grinning at their Father's outrage.

"Happy birthday boys! Come and sit down;" Mr Weasley gestured them to two other chairs around the table. Mrs Weasley turned around at her husband's words and beamed as she saw them, seizing them both in a hug; although this time managing to do so without causing injury.

"Happy Birthday, Fred, George. I was wondering whether you two were getting up today! Now as it's your birthday what would you both like for breakfast?" She looked from one to the other with hands on hips.

"Toast please", they both answered in unison.

"Just toast?" They both nodded and sat down in the two chairs their Father had indicated.

"Well as long as you're sure. Ron would have been ordering pancakes, sausages, bacon, eggs..." Her voice trailed off and she gazed sadly out of the kitchen window. She hadn't even been able to wish Ron happy birthday and was longing to have her family all together again. Mr Weasley raised his head from his paper and got up to comfort his wife who had begun to cry quietly into her apron; he slipped his arms around her and whispered words of comfort in her ear. Fred turned to look at George, who met his gaze with a worried expression.

Mrs Weasley turned back to them with a blotched face. "I'm sorry boys. I don't mean to ruin your birthday. It's just that..."

"Mum, you don't need to apologise for anything; we know how hard this has been for you," Fred replied firmly.

"I'm not exactly feeling too happy myself", he added so that only George could hear him.

Still sniffing Mrs Weasley set two plates of toast in front of them and turned back to their cake. Mr Weasley had returned to his seat, but the paper lay forgotten on the table; instead he was gazing blankly into space.

"I haven't been able to buy you a present of course and I expect you're both sick of knitted things," Mrs Weasley began.

"Mum, neither of us were expecting anything," George assured her.

"But I thought you might like these," she said offering them two large packages. Each twin took their package and carefully began to unwrap them. They unfolded the material and each held a jacket up to the light, George's was purple and Fred's green. The detail on each of the jackets was exquiste, a close look showed that they each had a chequered pattern of lighter green and purple respectively, interspersed with squares of a darker shade of the colour.

"Wow thanks Mum, this is really nice," Fred said gratefully.

"Yes thank you, this is great," George said as he admired the material.

"They were Fabian and Gideon's", Mrs Weasley said quietly. "I thought they'd suit you both and they're exactly the right size. They were the same height as you." Mrs Weasley's voice trembled slightly on 'were', but she managed to gulp back her tears.

"Are you sure you want us to have them then Mum?" George enquired anxiously.

"Yes I am," she replied, her voice firm once again. "You two remind me of them so much, they often had quite a mischievous spirit," she said softly and regarded the twins tenderly. "You even look a bit like them even though they weren't twins. Though they were so close that people often thought they were. At least they were together when they died", she sighed and stroked each twin's cheek lightly.

Fred bit his lip, reflecting on the tragedy that had befallen his uncles but at least one of them hadn't survived to live out the rest of their life miserably without the other. George knew exactly what his twin was thinking and squeezed his hand under the table reassuringly.

"Try them on," urged Mrs Weasley. George slipped his arms into the sleeves and zipped it up, Fred mirroring his movements next to him.

"Very handsome," their Mother smiled. "I was thinking that we'd do your cake at the Order meeting so you've got more people to sing happy birthday to you."

"That sounds great Mum," George smiled.

The twins took a walk outside, turning together automatically in the direction of the stream where they sat on its bank and trailed their fingers in the cool, refreshing water.

"Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Georgie, happy birthday to you!" Fred finished singing and smiled at George before brushing his cheek with a finger. It had always been a tradition between them that they sang happy birthday to each other ever since they knew how to sing.

"Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Freddie, happy birthday to you!" They grinned at each other and sat shoulder to shoulder staring out at the stunning view of the surrounding countryside.

"Here's to many more birthdays together," Fred slipped an arm around George's shoulders and touched the G shaped pendant hidden under his jumper; a small piece of his beloved George.

"I think this is the first year we haven't done an April fool's on someone," George commented.

"We're a bit too late now, it's after twelve," Fred said.

He faintly heard their Mother calling them from further up the garden and nudging George they both stood up and made their way over to her. To their surprise Aunt Muriel was stood next to her clutching two small boxes of chocolates.

"Happy Birthday," she wheezed offering them a box each. "You two seem to have grown up from the little devils you were, even if you have hijacked my dining room."

"Thanks Aunt Muriel." Fred suppressed a grin, if Aunt Muriel hadn't seen them at a time when their spirits were subdued she would probably have been voicing an entirely different opinion.

"Come in to the living room boys, we're ready for you now," Mrs Weasley instructed before turning briskly and walking back towards the house.

George examined his box of chocolates and smiled. "Do you think she's poisoned them? He joked.

"No, we have a talent of working our way into anyone's affections George. I think she's finally forgiven us for the dungbomb."

"Hopefully we're back in her will then, we need the money," George replied.

"George Fabian Weasley I am shocked!" Fred said in a tone of mock surprise.

"But I bet you were thinking the same thing," George smirked back at him.

Fred opened his mouth to answer but their Mother was calling them inside.

They entered Aunt Muriel's living room to the sound of dozens of voices shouting happy birthday. The twins were shocked to see so many members of the Order gathered to celebrate their birthday; it was amazing and even flattering, but the absence of many of their family was made even more stark. Mrs Weasley held out their cake, which was complete with 20 lit candles and decorated with edible F's and G's.

Together the twins leaned in towards the cake and blew out the candles; one flickered stubbornly for a second but was still extinguished in one breath. Each made a fervent wish as they blew, never before had each so desperately wanted their wishes to come true.

_I wish that George was in love with me._

_I wish that Fred was in love with me._

They grinned at each other as everybody clapped and Mrs Weasley began to dish out slices of the cake. Mr Weasley approached them brandishing a muggle camera and held it up so that they were framed within the lense. "Smile boys!"

Fred pulled George to him and pressed his cheek to his, both giving their most beautiful smiles for the camera before turning to smile adoringly at each other.

"Excellant! I'll have this developed so it moves," Mr Weasley told them eagerly before moving away in his wife's direction.

"This cake is _so_ good," George said through a mouthful so large that he resembled a hamster with its cheeks stuffed.

"Yes, you do seem to be enjoying it Georgie," Fred laughed, slipping an arm through his and leading them over to some empty seats. He picked up a decanter filled with firewhiskey and tipped out two small measures. They clicked the glasses together and gulped back the fiery liquid in a single swallow; George held out his for a refill but Fred shook his head laughing.

"No, I'm not letting you get smashed today. I want you to remember our birthday Georgie," Fred chuckled.

"I only got really drunk that one time," George protested grinning. "And I didn't vomit everywhere," he added with a sideways glance at Fred.

"That was gross, but I learnt my lesson after that," Fred smiled as he placed the decanter back down firmly, glad that he had not yet resorted to alcohol for relief from his fears and worries.

The party dispersed several hours later and the twins returned to their room laughing and joking; Fred leading his twin by the hand. They sank onto the mattress exhausted by the effort of smiling at everyone all day and lay back against the lumpy pillows.

"Enjoyed today George?"

"Yes, I have. It was nice to have a break from worrying," George leant his head on Fred's shoulder and slid an arm around his waist. He tilted his face to smile up at Fred, "did you?"

"Of course, I enjoy every birthday with you," Fred replied softly. "I love you my twin."

"And I love you too". Their lips connected briefly for a soft kiss; a kiss that both knew went beyond what would be regarded as brotherly, but they withdrew and the moment was over. It was almost as if it had never happened, taking on a dreamlike quality and the possibility of a confession disappeared as quickly as it had come. It seemed to both twins that birthday wishes had little chance of coming true that night, but both continued to wish and dream on. The first step to a wish being fulfilled, as neither would ever let go of their feelings and would always hold on to the slim possibility of having everything that they'd ever wanted.


	20. Waiting for the Call

The darkness was devastating. Everywhere was death, terror and confusion as Voldemort's take over of the wizarding world seemed near to completion. As the days went by there came more news of Order deaths, people disappearing and unthinkable atrocities being committed against muggles. Cooped up in Aunt Muriel's, all the twins could do in response to these reports was wait. The Order was powerless to do anything until Harry led them; it was all up to a seventeen year old boy now. Even the Daily Prophet started reporting more of what was going on, as Voldemort had decided to use the reported deaths to terrify the population into abject submission. Fred and George would never submit to such evil, not as long as there was still breath left in their bodies and a fighting spirit in their souls.

"I wonder what Harry is going to do next," George offered, while they were once again sat by the stream. It emitted soft gurgles as the water bubbled past them, but the comforting balm of nature was insufficient to untangle Fred's knotted stomach. The premonition that something bad was going to happen had not left him since their birthday and if he had not been fully convinced of George's determination to fight he would have taken him far away, somewhere where he could be safe. Even though Fred knew full well that nowhere was safe from the darkness anymore, he had to fight every instinct in his body and prevent his twin from fighting. The instinct to protect his twin like he'd always tried to protect him despite some failures was overwhelming. Fred knew that another failure was sure to have lethal results this time, but despite all their fear there had never been any question that they would do all they could to end Voldemort's reign of terror.

He took a deep breath to compose himself before answering; it had been difficult to maintain any sort of composure these days as his emotions continuously fluctuated between terror, fear and his ever present depression over the outcome of his taboo feelings.

"Me too, they've been there a couple of weeks now. I wonder what they're planning."

"They might have no idea what to do next. Knowing Dumbledore the task he left them was probably an impossible one," George mused.

Fred nodded and tore at a clump of fresh grass to stop him from tearing at his hair in frustration. "I still can't understand why Harry didn't tell the Order what Dumbledore had left him to do. We could have helped, got whatever it is done quicker. He's risking everything if he fails, but perhaps Harry likes being the hero and doesn't want anybody else to take any credit. I know that sounds harsh George, but I have to wonder why he wouldn't trust anyone else with it."

"Perhaps he thought there might be spies in the Order and there probably are Fred. There are a few I can think of who seem a bit shifty to me. But you're right, there's plenty of us who could have also been trusted with this", George said.

"That's always been Harry's problem. He thinks that he has to do everything alone or worse that he thinks this whole thing is only about him. Not to mention that he has quite a temper sometimes, but then what can I say, sometimes so do I", Fred added.

"But that's not very often," George said softly as he rubbed Fred's shoulder affectionately.

"This does seem to have turned into a bitching about our hero session doesn't it, sorry Harry," Fred laughed. "He has been rather rude to us in the past hasn't he? Remember when we tried to show him some of our products after a DA meeting and he brushed us off. He did that rather a lot; but then so does everybody unless they want a joke," Fred said slightly moodily.

"I know, but he's still not a bad chap and hey nobody is perfect; except you of course Freddie," George smiled.

"Well of course," Fred said with a fake arrogant air. "No, I'm far from perfect. I'm full of imperfections."

"But you're perfect to me because I love all your imperfections," George said, looking into the depths of his twins sparkling brown eyes.

Fred shifted closer and smiled, a soft, slow smile that gradually lit up his entire face and spread to his eyes. "I'd say that I love all of yours, but to me you don't have any Saint George."

A blush crept over George's pale complexion. "You have been making full use of all the religious imagery that comes with this," he said, pointing to the mangled remains of his ear and the gaping hole of his ear drum.

They would have continued their conversation if not for the sound of commotion coming from the house. Rising together they set off up the garden path to see what was happening. _Hopefully some action,_ Fred thought. _"All this waiting is killing me."_

They walked around the large stone building as the noise was coming from around the front. As they rounded the corner they saw Bill and their parents crowded around a stretcher where a pale and ill looking old man was gripping the blankets weakly to his chest.

"That's Ollivander," Fred whispered.

They watched as Mrs Weasley carefully levitated the stretcher and guided it into the house. For several days the new resident didn't make an appearance and was confined to his room, recuperating from the horrific ordeal of spending over a year imprisoned in the Malfoy's basement. When he emerged one evening for dinner his sufferance was clearly visible in the pained look in his eyes. Noticing his entry, George immediately got up and helped the old man to a seat.

"Very kind young man thank you," Ollivander said gratefully as he sank his pain ridden body into one of the kitchen chairs. Aunt Muriel was regarding him with interest; it semed that she was rather enjoying having so many important people passing through her home. Mrs Weasley beamed at George approvingly as he sat back down and rested his chin on his right hand.

"How are you feeling today Garrick?" Mrs Weasley enquired as she set down a huge portion of Shephard's pie in front of him.

"A little better thank you Molly;" his voice sounded grating and sore as he spoke.

When the wandmaker had returned to his room Mrs Weasley sent the twins up with a jug of water and some medicine. Upon knocking his croaky voice bid them to enter the room. George set down the jug on the nightstand and Fred added the powdered medicine into it, giving it a stir so that it turned the colour of milk. The twins made to quietly leave the room but they were stopped by Ollivander's entreaty for them to stay a while and keep him company.

"I remember when you two came to my shop to purchase your wands," he said folding his hands over the duvet and resting upright against the pillows.

"That was nearly nine years ago Sir, you have a long memory," Fred replied slightly astounded.

"Oh I remember everybody who passes through my shop, especially you two. There's not many identical twins that I've provided wands for in my long career." He regarded them with studied interest, his shrewd black eyes boring into them. George edged closer to the bed and pulled out his wand from his jeans.

"We were wondering whether you'd be able to tell us about the connection between our wands. We've figured that there must be one between them because of the magic that they can produce together."

Ollivander held out his hands for the wand; the skin was tight giving them a skeletal like quality. He inspected it closely and held it to his head as if listening to something that the wand was telling him.

"Fourteen inches, flexible. And ah yes dragon heartstring, the core with the most power. And the wood... walnut of course. Very suitable for a magical innovater and inventor like yourself. Such fine detail too if I do say so myself," he said admiring the broomstick like structure of the handle. He handed the wand back to George and took Fred's from his outstretched hand.

"Fourteen inches, flexible, dragon heartstring and my personal favourite, dogwood. A quirky and mischievous wand, perfect for someone like you Fred. I'm sure you provide it with much excitement. Tell me are you able to perform non verbal spells with it?"

Fred took his wand back from Ollivander, running his fingers over the pine cone shaped handle and the small notches along the stem. "Yes. Yes I can."

"Interesting," Ollivander mused. "Dogwood wands are known for not performing them. You must be some wizard Mr Weasley to get over this foible. And to answer your question, yes there is indeed a very powerful connection existing between your wands. The cores come from the same dragon heartstring split into two; a connection that if I am not mistaken is the same kind of one that exists between the wands of Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. A rare thing. You wouldn't be able to kill each other with them, not that you would ever want to do that," he said with a chuckle after observing the look on each of their faces.

"Wands with dragon heartstring are usually very strongly bonded to their owner and master, but I sense that with this connection and your obviously close bond that your wands are loyal to both of you and although your best magic will come from using your own wand, remarkably they seem to have formed a bond with the other twin as well. This is something that I've never seen before, no wonder that you can produce such outstanding magic together. Perhaps once this is all over you wouldn't mind allowing me to study them further and to observe the magic that you can produce with them," Ollivander looked from one twin to the other with a smile.

They consulted together briefly through a quick glance at one another and both nodded. "Of course, we want to know as much as we can about them," George replied.

Ollivander watched them go, his eyes lit with fascination and unguarded interest as he dwelt on the powerful magic that the twins might be able to channel through their wands. He sensed that if they managed to unlock the full potential of them that the wizarding world would see some of the most skillfull and exceptional magic to ever be performed. But what was the key to unlocking this power? Although he still felt ill and on the brink of death, the old wandmaker hoped that he would live to see the discovery of this key.

* * *

As the month of April drew on, the twins owl order business was still going strong and they were soon raking in the galleons. But their ingredients were depleting rapidly, as was the small store of products that they'd been able to bring with them. They inspected what was left one afternoon and concluded with disappointment that there was only enough to fulfil a few more orders, as it was out of the question that they could go out and purchase the elements that were needed to craft their merchandise. Sure enough by the end of the week there was nothing left and Aunt Muriel's dining room was once again a dining room. With nothing to focus their energy on the twins spirits slumped and they paced around the house and garden anxiously, waiting for the call that would summon everyone to the final showdown with Voldemort. Fred was finding it very difficult to bear, but he didn't want to worry his twin with the fears, which once blurry were starting to take a more sold form as if they were gaining strength as time drew ever closer to the moment when they might be fulfilled.

It was the 3oth of April.

Unbeknownst to the Order of the Phoenix this was the last time that they would ever be gathered together debating their next course of action. The next time they met they would stand as the victors or the losers, but if the former was achieved how many would have to fall first?

"I would like to commend everyone for the bravery and the loyalty that you have shown over these last months. When it comes to it I know that we will have a credible chance at defeating him. It will be hard, it is likely that we will not all make it out of this alive but I have every confidence that you will all fight him whatever the personal cost. For freedom! For a world that is accepting of everyone, no matter what their blood status is, no matter whether they are a muggle or a goblin. We will fight for our futures!" There were enthusiastic rounds of applause at the end of Kingsley's rousing speech; the twins joined in with the clamour and the cheers but inside they were both assessing the personal cost of what needed to be done. The personal cost would take everything from them.

After the meeting was finished the twins held their last Potterwatch broadcast, entreating their listeners for their support.

"Together we have a chance at defeating him. Together we can secure our futures and be free from the pain and the terror that has been a permanent part of our lives over the last few years," Fred urged.

"We need your help, so please don't stand by and allow someone else to take the fall for you. We need everybody who is over age and capable of duelling to be on hand the moment that there is word of a battle. Whoever you are, muggle born, half blood or purebloods like us who think that blood purity is a load of tosh we need you to stand with us. Wizards and Witches all over the world unite with the Order of the Phoenox and end Voldemort's grip once and for all," George spoke with passion.

"We have a feeling that this may be our last broadcast, so thank you listeners. We've had a laugh with this show but now is the time for a serious think about what you are going to do to end this."

"Thank you, goodnight and good luck and remember that we have right on our side." George pointed his wand at the wireless and the broadcast ended.

Fred breathed deeply trying to calm himself; he looked up and saw George attempting to do the same. This was it; it would soon be time for them to face their fears, to conquer them. As if of one mind they rose from their seats and approached each other. Fred slipped his arms around George's waist and held him closely, nuzzling his face against his neck and stroking the soft ginger locks. He felt George press tightly against him, his hand was trapped between their slender bodies and was running down Fred's chest. Fred raised his face from his twin's neck and they regarded each other with all the love that they felt for one other. George trailed a finger along Fred's face as if memorising every dip, every curve, every angle and locking it safely away in his mind; all their little differences. Fred leant forwards slightly so that their foreheads were touching and their insides felt warm at the skin on skin contact. George closed the gap even further so that their noses were brushing and Fred tightened his grip around George's waist, before running one hand up and down his back. Each closed their eyes for a brief moment to savour the closeness of each other. Fred could hear George's breathing, could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled; whilst George who continued to touch his twin's chest could feel the strong beat and steady rhythm of his heart. They let themselves go to their last moment of weakness before they summoned up every ounce of courage that they possessed to fight.

"We're going to be ok. Everything's going to be fine. All this worry will be for nothing. It will..." Fred's voice which had begun so firmly trailed off into nothing as he clutched George and let the fear pour out of him through several tears that made their way down his pale cheek and wetted George's face too. They were soon joined by several of George's, as they continued to hold one another. Then stepping apart they wiped each other's faces gently and proceeded with packing away the wireless. For the first time in nearly a month Fred felt calm, he felt ready to face whatever was to come because George would be by his side and as long as they were together surely they were invincible? There would be no more moments of weakness Fred promised himself as they climbed the steep stairs that led up to their attic room. He wouldn't scare George anymore by allowing him to see the terror that still knotted his stomach.

"Shall we trim our hair a bit George? Our fringes are starting to flop into our eyes," Fred commented as he examined his hair in the mirror.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. We can grow it out after," George said confidently as he fetched a pair of scissors from one of their bags. "Sit on the stool Fred."

Fred did as he was bid and felt George come up behind him and begin snipping away.

"I won't make it too short, just so our ears are visible at the front and a bit longer at the back if that's alright."

"Sounds good to me", Fred replied. "Just as long as it won't get in the way or our hair will be the death of us," Fred tried to joke weakly. George chuckled in response, but it sounded strained and unnatural. He moved to the front and began trimming some of the longer strands of fiery hair there. For Fred, the feel of George's hand brushing against his face was nearly too much, expecially when he knelt down in front of him between his spread legs to check that it was even. He reached his hands up to hold his head straight for longer than was really necessary as they both stared at each other and George brushed Fred's cheeks with his thumbs. Fred attempted to keep a neutral expression on his face but the flicker of something he couldn't describe in George's kind, warm brown eyes intrigued him. Before he could observe the look any further George briskly got to his feet and brushed the severed strands from Fred's shoulders. Moving behind him again he brushed his neck off carefully and blew the remaing tiny pieces of hair away. Fred was extremely glad that George was stood behind him so that his reaction to the feel of his breath on his skin was out of view.

"All done Freddie," George prompted him after Fred had remained sat unmoving on the stool for several moments after he'd finished.

"Oh, right yes thanks Georgie." He bounced up so quickly off the stool that he nearly tripped on the uneven floorboards and had to stagger forwards a few steps to regain his balance. He turned to make some joke about being clumsy lately, but he realised that George hadn't even registered it. His eyes stared across the room unseeing, a gentle smile played at the corner of his mouth as he fiddled with the scissors. Fred approached him and gently tugged them out of his grasp, managing to avoid contact with his skin. He pushed George gently in the direction of the stool and he sat on it, still with the same vacant far away expression. Fred began snipping, glancing in the mirror to the side of them now and again to ensure that their hair was cut to roughly the same length. Not a word was spoken, as Fred left George to his seemingly pleasant thoughts before their Mother suddenly entered the room and broke the silence that was so full of emotion.

"I would have done your hair for you boys," she said as she approached them.

"No offense Mum, but the last time you gave us a haircut you didn't quite understand what we meant by a couple of inches," Fred smiled, thinking of how their Mother had brutally cut off their shoulder length locks during the summer after their sixth year at school.

She chuckled. "No, I did get a bit carried away didn't I? You were cross! But you must like it short if you've kept it that way for nearly three years."

"We're gonna grow it again," George spoke. Fred glanced at his reflection in the mirror and saw that the absent look had vanished to be replaced by his sad and worried demeanour.

"Well, as much as I'm not a fan of long hair on boys, I must say that it suits you too. Goodnight sweethearts." She kissed them both on the cheek before leaving and the emotionally charged silence was back again.

"There you go George. What do you think?"

George examined his reflection in the mirror with only a half hearted interest before thanking his twin.

"Looks good thank you. Looks like there are some things which are easier when you don't use magic".

"No problem mate. Do you want to go to bed now?" Fred asked as he put the scissors away.

"Yeah, I'm tired", George replied as he reached under one of the pillows for his pyjamas. A large yawn proving that indeed be was, as his tired fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

As they crawled under the covers that night they had no idea that if fate had its way this would be the last time that one twin would set down his head on his pillow to sleep; the next rest would be the eternal sleep of the dead. As they slept the clock ticked on and as two o'clock chimed from Aunt Muriel's antique grandfather clock, there was only one day left. A single day until a question of fate must be decided.

When George first looked outside on the morning of the first of May he was immediately struck by the grey scene that confronted him. The lack of light and the number of clouds lining the sky gave the landscape such a grim and forbidding appearance that George had to repress a shudder. It was suitable weather for what was to come today. They dressed quickly, pulling on identical pale green roll necked tops, their Uncle's jackets and jeans that matched the colour of each of their jackets, so that Fred was clad in green and George purple. Fred fished out their laced ankle boots from the back of the wardrobe, sturdy footwear was essential he thought when something as small as a trip could result in death in the heat of a battle.

The day swept by quickly despite the twin's inactivity, as they spent the entire day sitting around idly waiting. Waiting for the call to come as they knew it must. The reckless part of them was itching to fight, but their respective concern for each other filled them with fear so strong that they felt sick to their stomachs and so they waited on edge. They conversed little during those dreadful hours of waiting, both lost in thought but occasionally touching the other to reassure themselves that their twin was still there.

Their parents too were at a loss of what to do with themselves. Mr Weasley tried several times to inject some conversation into the living room but silence soon fell again. Even Mrs Weasley who liked to keep busy with household tasks was unusually still and listless. Unable to bear the tension any longer, at nine o'clock the twins retreated to their room and lay fully dressed next to each other on the bed. Fred reached for George's hand and squeezed it; he moved to draw it away but George clung to it firmly. The minutes ticked by painfully; but the wait was nearly over.

On the bedside table next to George was a single small golden coin, which looked inconspicuous against the table's wooden surface. It was a fake galleon that had been used to alert them to the time and date of the next Dumbledore's Army meeting during their last year at school. A faint glow began to emerge from the coin, catching George's attention. The numbers along the side had changed to 10 01 05 98; a time and a date. George looked at his watch, it was ten o'clock clock at night on the first of May. His stomach felt like it had dropped off a cliff; the call had come at last.

He nudged Fred who had begun to dose off and showed him the glowing coin. Upon sight of the coin, Fred was immediately fully alert, grabbing it from George he stared at the numbers intently as if making sure that the moment which they'd been waiting for for months had finally come. Accepting that it had Fred lowered the coin from his eye and rested it in his palm. The twins exchanged a long look, reading the pit of fear and terror in each other's eyes, but there was no time for anymore weakness and they quickly pulled themselves together and bravely gained control over the fear.

Dumbledore's army was once again active and this time they would not be participating in a practice session in the room of requirement, but in a real battle. It was what the twins had been preparing for; a chance to end the second wizarding war, a chance to defeat Voldemort once and for all. Tonight more than ever before they were going to need their Gryffindor bravery.

Breaking eye contact they both stood up, collected their wands and walked briskly to the door. Both twins' faces were set with an inflexible determination (combined with fear) to do all they could to defend Hogwarts and so they moved to answer the call.

The cry of battle, the call of death.


	21. Dumbledore's Army

The twins found Mrs Weasley in her room, also calling it an early night. They burst in, Fred still holding the glowing coin and held it out for her to see. She dropped the pillow which she'd been holding and approached them slowly.

"It's now Mum," Fred said quietly. Mrs Weasley looked terrified as she took the coin and inspected it for herself; but she soon calmed herself from the shock and called her husband with an unwavering voice. Mr Weasley entered the bedroom at her call and stopped at the set looks on his sons' and wife's faces. The coin was again examined and it was decided without doubt that the time for battle had come.

"We need to inform the rest of the Order," Mr Weasley said briskly and without a further word he turned on his heel and left the room. Mrs Weasley momentarily leant on the chest of drawers for support and breathed deeply; the memory of the boggart that she had uncovered in Grimmauld Place haunting her. The three of them made their way downstairs, closely followed by Aunt Muriel who was demanding to know what all the commotion was about.

"Harry's at Hogwarts," Fred informed her succinctly and followed George into the entrance hall where they nearly collided with their Father. Behind him was Remus, Kingsley, Bill, Fleur and several other members of the Order, quick to respond to Arthur's patronus.

"We've just received further word from Neville Longbottom," Kingsley said; his long blue robes brushing along the floor as he squeezed into the cramped hallway. "He says that we can enter the castle through a secret passageway that leads from the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade. Everyone needs to apparate right on to the doorstep to avoid triggering the curfew siren."

Upon hearing this information the twins exchanged surprised looks; they had believed themselves to be aware of the existence of all the secret passageways of the castle and were mildly disappointed that this had turned out not to be the case.

"We'll apparate in intervels of thirty seconds in pairs," Kingsley instructed as he made his way past the twins to talk in a low voice with Molly. George followed Fred outside where a handful of other Order members were gathered. They merely nodded at their brother and Fleur, as preparations were undertaken with only the necessary words to convey them used. Nobody was in the mood for empty chatter, completely focused on the task at hand and a combination of nerves and adrenaline fueling their bodies. The twins were avoiding looking at one another directly, but continued to remain side by side.

Kingsley emerged from the house with Molly and directed the first pair to apparate. They disappeared with a pop and the next pair followed them. Aunt Muriel was standing on her doorstep watching the departure of the Order members with unease; although in the past she'd never been overly fond of her Weasley relatives, over the last two months she had come to form an affection for them and was disappointed that her advanced age prevented her from joining in the fight.

"Where's Tonks Remus?" Lupin held his wand out ready, his face appeared to have lost its aged appearance and for once he looked his age, exuding an air of determination and battle readiness.

"She's at her Mother's with Teddy Arthur. She wasn't very happy about it but I persuaded her in the end," Lupin replied heavily. Fred overheard their short exchange and wished desperately that he could have convinced George to stay behind too. He'd nearly formed the decision to stun his twin and leave him behind, but he knew that George would never have forgiven him for going off to battle by himself. No, he needed George with him. They had made their decision to fight despite the risk and they were going to abide by it whatever the cost of their valour.

Now it was the twins' turn and Kinglsey nodded briefly at them, their Mother watching them with an anxious expression and Aunt Muriel voicing words of good luck. Without any hesitation Fred grasped George's wrist and they disapparated together. With a loud crack they arrived neatly on the doorstep of the Hog's Head pub, checking their balance so that they didn't trigger the siren and alert the death eaters to their presence. Fred glanced around at the deserted lane of the village, at the pitch blach darkness that surrounded them, before pushing down the brass door handle and slipping inside the gap that appeared; George following closely behind him.

They took a moment to survey the room, its stone walls and sparse furnishings giving it an unwelcoming appearance. Over the fireplace was a portrait of a young girl, Fred stepped forward to examine it; there was something familiar about those eyes that he couldn't place.

"Am I going to be having Order members traipsing through here all night," a gruff voice demanded from behind them.

Both twins turned to the source of the voice and stared. If each hadn't known better they would have said that Albus Dumbledore was standing in front of them, but upon closer inspection despite the initial resemblance, the man before them lacked Dumbledore's twinkling eyes and his ambiable demeanour.

"Who are you?" George asked, aware that he was still staring but unable to break off his gaze.

"Aberforth Dumbledore". For the first time since the call had come, the twins exchanged looks.

"I never knew Dumbledore had a brother," Fred said in a tone which clearly indicated his surprise.

"Well, you wouldn't would you? Albus always did everything he could to break links with me, to hide his shame". Aberforth's voice was laced with bitterness, leaving the twins wondering what had happened between the Dumbledores.

Without a further word, Aberforth pointed at the portrait of the young girl and left the room. The twins approached it again and it gradually opened to reveal a long, dark corridor.

"Lumos," Fred muttered. He climbed into the passageway and moved forwards half a metre to give George room to climb in behind him. There was barely even room for them to stand as they made their way down the passageway. Ahead of them they could hear the distant footsteps of other Order members. After five minutes of walking the passage began to slope downwards and they descended further underground. Fred felt the walls; they were damp and cold, leading him to suspect that the passageway was taking them right underneath the lake.

"Well we never found this one George," Fred said cheerfully as the passage's floor levelled out and became slightly wider.

"No, perhaps it's appeared recently," George suggested hopefully. "I can't believe it's been nearly two years since we were last at Hogwarts," he added.

"Yeah, it's a shame our return had to be under such circumstances".

"No it's not going to be as dramatic as our exit with all this sneaking around," George laughed.

Before long the path ahead began to ascend steeply; Fred raised his wand higher, casting the light further in front of them and could see rough steps hewn into the rock.

"Careful they're a bit slippy," Fred warned his twin. They climbed for nearly ten minutes, the steps ending against a solid stone wall. The twins drew to a halt, but the sound of many excited voices on the others side confirmed that they were now inside the castle. Fred placed his hands against the stone and with a groan the panel directly in front of them opened up, revealing a crowded room that was full of hammocks suspended across the space. A large desk was placed against one wall, filled with unusual instruments and wireless equipment that was similar to the set they'd used to broadcast Potterwatch.

"It's the room of requirement," Fred announced as he looked down on the people buzzing around with anticipation and George stepped to his side to get a good look at the room for himself. He realised that many of the students must have been using the room to hide from Snape and the Carrows. He spotted Harry still being greeted enthusiastically by many people and shaking hands with the Order members who had just arrived before them.

An excited murmur grew as several people spotted the twins at the end of the passageway; a murmur which grew to several cheers of "it's the Weasley twins" and then a round of applause that equalled the volume of the one received by the trio when they had made their own entrance. They both grinned and waved cheerily at the crowd before jumping down from the raised platform which they were stood on, presenting the people surging forward to meet them with their usual demeanour, painted on to cover the seriousness that had taken over the twins since the Battle of the Seven Potters. People were glad to see them because the twins gave them a laugh and now was the point when laughter was needed to combat the darkness that was surrounding the castle. Fred didn't want to disappoint so he ignored the renewed spurt of fear and darted forwards grinning and waving stupidly.

"Sorry about the lack of fireworks," he joked to more cheers. George however, following tight to his shadow, declined to join in with the charade, but all eyes were on Fred and they basked in the burst of joy that seemed to enter the room with him.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny also clapping, pushed to the front. Spotting their siblings, Fred gave a noise of delight and hugged Ron tightly.

"It's good to see you little bro," he greeted him excitedly.

"And you two mate. I've missed the pair of you," Ron said from against his elder brother's shoulder. Breaking apart Fred turned to Ginny who clung to him enthusiastically, as George stepped forward to hug Ron.

"Hi guys;" Harry was beaming as he stretched up to hug the significantly taller Fred, after Ginny had finally released him and seized George instead.

"Long time no see. You three have had a great adventure from what we have managed to hear," Fred beamed back. He clapped his hands together. "So where's the battle then? Let me at those death eaters". Everyone laughed to see his seemingly reckless bravery; to them the fear was invisble. George watched his twin's antics; for Fred the way to deal with this was to put on a show. Thankfully, stood slightly in the background as usual when all attention was on the Weasley twins, nobody noticed that the fear had partially cracked the mask George had put on. But he quickly repaired it, leaving a smile on his face again.

"Hello Granger," George grinned at Hermione after Fred had put Harry down from the several inches he'd lifted him to much amusement.

To his surprise Hermione threw her arms around his neck; in spite of Hermione's dislike of the twins' constant rule breaking they had formed a solid friendship but she'd never hugged them much before.

"Hello George," she grinned, a faint blush creeping over her skin. She had to admit that she rather liked it when George called her Granger like that and if it wasn't for her feelings for Ron she realised that she did used to have a bit of a crush on George; not that she was ever going to tell the Weasley twin that.

Nearly everybody wanted to hug the twins, as if to gain a share of the joy that seemed to constantly surround them. After much hugging of people, some who they didn't even know at all well, Fred saw that many other Order memebers had come through from the Hog's Head passage.

"Oh my Ronnie!" Mrs Weasley shrieked with pure delight as she caught sight of Ron and started sobbing as she clutched him tightly to her.

"Hi Mum," Ron said grinning as she examined the state he was in.

"Oh and Harry dear! It's good to see you. We're all here to help you; the Order's not letting you do this alone".

Harry nodded. "It's really good to see you all. There's something I need to find, but first I think it's time that we give the headmaster a little surprise. He already knows that I've been sighted in Hogsmeade." Although said jokingly, George could see the deep loathing of Snape in Harry's eyes; the man who had killed Albus Dumbledore. He moved towards the senior Order members and filled them in on the details of his plan to seize control of the school from Snape.

Students began pulling on their robes and leaving for the Great Hall, Harry concealed in their midst with Ginny. Mrs Weasley's protestations were ignored as Ginny was determined to be a part of what was to come tonight. After waiting five minutes until the corridors would be clear of students, the twins made to follow the other Order members to the Great Hall, but they paused at the sound of the entrance to the Hog's Head tunnel once again sliding open and somebody easing themselves down onto the ground.

"Am I too late. Is it over?" There was something magisterial about the voice that was unmistakable: it was Percy. He approached the group, pushing his horn rimmed glasses more securely onto his nose, but he stopped abruptly at the sight of so many of his family.

Mr Weasley's expression instantly tightened and he turned to speak to Remus. Drawing together all the humility that he could muster Percy stepped closer to the group. Fred turned to regard his twin who was staring at Percy with surprise, for as much as he had hoped for him to be reconciled to them he had doubted that it would ever come to pass.

"I was a fool, a...a-"

"Ministry loving, family disowning moron", Fred finished for him.

Percy looked at Fred who was smiling at him.

"Yes, yes I was," he said meekly.

"Well, we can't say fairer than that Perce," Fred grinned as he stepped towards him and held out his hand. Percy reached to take it eagerly but was prevented by Mrs Weasley roughly pushing Fred out of the way and hugging Percy tightly. "Oh Percy!"

Fred stumbled awkwardly for a moment caught completely off guard; George caught him by the elbow and stopped him from staggering any further. George felt the hurt radiating off him and glanced at him sympathetically, as their Mother fussed over her third son in delight. George's sympathy turned to concern as he observed Fred's dark look and had a good idea what kind of thoughts were going through his head. It hadn't been the first time after all that their Mother had pushed one of them out of the way, as he remembered when Ron had been made a prefect. "A prefect that's everyone in the family!" Their Mother had completely forgotten them and George's joke about them being next door neighbours had really been no joke at all.

_She won't be interested in us now that she's got Percy back,_ Fred thought bitterly.

With her arm still around Percy's shoulders Mrs Weasley and the other Order members began to leave the room of requirement; their Mother did not look back at them once. George began to follow them out but stopped when Fred's footsteps did not fall into place with him. George beckoned him forward and Fred fell into step with him; Fred didn't look at him at all and George hoped that Fred would forget this matter for the time being and focus on the battle at hand. He knew however that Fred was unlikely to let it go. Nevertheless they walked down a corridor with a high vaulted ceiling which opened out on to the Castle's grand staircase. The castle looked grim and dark; it seemed as if the Carrows had sucked the soul out of the place as the Order descended the stairs, their footsteps reverberating on the marble.

George took another look at Fred; his general expression had mellowed to the untrained eye but George could see in his eyes how hurt he was, but there was no time for words of comfort now as they walked briskly through the entrance hall and waited outside the towering oak doors of the Great Hall for the signal. Bill and Fleur were stood next to them. "Good luck," Bill said quietly and more voices joined his as the Order members regarded each other, hoping that luck would be with everybody tonight.

They didn't have long to wait; gasps could be heard from beyond the doors as Harry revealed himself and Kingsley flicked the doors open with his wand. The Order members entered and spread out in a line, feet firmly planted, wands drawn as the mass of students turned to gape at them. The cavalry had arrived. George was stood slightly in front of Fred as both twins observed the shock spreading across Snape's gaunt face as he registered the presence of so many Order members.

The twins continued to watch the stand off between Harry and Snape; the tension filling the cavernous hall was stifling as Harry stared Snape down with pure loathing and anger.

"Tell them how it happened that night," Harry was shouting at the black haired, sallow skinned man stood fifteen metres away from him.

With Harry's words George could have sworn that he saw guilt flicker across Snape's face; it seemed that Snape regretted what he had done.

The twin's amazement increased as Professor Mcgonagall swept in front of Harry, her arms outstretched protectively. The guilt across Snape's face became more marked as he remembered another woman stepping in front of Harry; a woman that he still loved to this day.

Professor Mcgonagall did not shout or scream, but every inch of her indicated anger; for months she had been forced to watch as Snape had allowed the Carrows to terrorise students, but after tonight she was determined to put an end to it. Fire erupted from her wand as they dueled; Snape's movements were slow and reluctant as he possessed no desire to injure his colleague, unbeknownst to all those in the room who believed him to be in league with Voldemort.

_Mcgonagall is awesome,_ George thought as Snape escaped through one of the hall's tall, leaded glass windows and the Carrows were left unconscious on the cold stone floor. Cheers filled the room at the headmaster's sudden departure, but the twins were surprised to see a death eater fight with such hesitation. They stepped forwards into the crowd; the jostle separating them from each other so that George was cut off from Fred by a dozen people. Being taller than everyone else though meant that they could still see one another over the heads of the crowd, reminding himself of that Fred tried to bat the fear to one side. He looked directly at his twin but he was busy watching Harry and Professor Mcgonagall.

Without any warning the torches in the brackets were dimmed and several people began to scream as Voldemort's voice slithered into the room and addressed each and every one of them. "Give me Harry Potter."

Fred shuddered, the voice was inside his head and there was no way to escape it. He could feel its coldness, its cruelty; it sounded like the voice of death and Fred fought the urge to clutch his head as many of the other students were doing. He looked across at George again and this time his twin was seeking his eyes; they maintained eye contact for the duration of the the whisperings, drawing strength from each other and preventing the voice from filling them with terror. Fred wanted to push through the crowd to George but he was rooted to the spot and could only stand there helplessly as Voldemort gave them an hour to hand over Harry; an hour to prepare for battle as it was unthinkable that they would give in to his demands. Fred hummed in his head trying to distract himself from the ghostly Voldemort that had forced its way inside his mind.

As quickly as it had come the voice dissipated and the torches flared again, flooding the hall with light. There were sighs of relief all around the hall, but George's head was still ringing from Voldemort's whisperings. They had one hour that was it George thought, only one hour until they were in the greatest danger of their lives. George knew that that cold and heartless voice would bring death to Hogwarts that night. The voice had triggered the fear that George had managed to keep under control, now he was filled with a terror so potent that the thought of losing Fred overwhelmed him.

One by one Harry was surrounded by students and Order members as Slytherin Pansy Parkinson suggested that somebody grab Harry and hand him over. Fred and George joined the people forming a ring around Harry, who was touched by the amount of people willing to lay down their lives for him. George was almost tempted to smile as Filch, their old adversary against mischief making, galloped into the hall with Mrs Norris, complaining vociferously about the students out of bed.

Fred watched smugly as Filch under Minerva's order began to lead the Slytherins from the dungeon. He knew that it was slightly prejudiced to send most of them away, but with so many of their parents amongst the death eater's ranks it was out of the question that they would fight on Harry's side.

Kingsley began directing the younger students out of the hall and George made his way past Percy and Dean Thomas to reach Fred.

"That was bloody scary," George said as he reached his side.

"I know, it was like his voice was-"

"Inside you," George finished.

"Yeah," Fred replied. He looked intently at George for a moment before adding in a low voice, "stay close". George nodded and tried to smile reassuringly but his smile ended up looking more like a grimace. They followed Kingsley out of the hall amongst a tide of students; all of whom looked completely terrified. Kingsley spotted them and waved them over.

"Fred, George would you help with the evacuation of all those under age first and then seal the passage?"

"Sure thing Kingsley," George replied. He placed a hand sympathetically on the shoulder of a tiny first year who looked on the verge of tears.

"Follow us," he ordered gently. They gathered together a group of thirty students and began to shepherd them up the grand staircase towards the room of requirement on the seventh floor.

"As quick as you can now," Fred urged from the back to the stragglers. It was a struggle not to lose their group in the crowd of students rushing about chaotically on the stairs, but somehow they managed to reach the seventh floor where Sturgis Podmore was waiting to take the first years through the passage to the Hog's Head. More students were running up the staircase behind them and the twins ushered them through to the room of requirement. Ten minutes later and the flow of students had trickled down to one boy who was hobbling along, having twisted his ankle in the rush to evacuate.

Sturgis Podmore reappeared from the passage after the last student had entered. "All done lads?"

"Yeah, there's no more students who need or want to leave," George confirmed.

Fred climbed onto the platform that led up to the passage and prepared to seal it to prevent the death eaters from entering the castle and overcoming the defenders undetected.

"Wait, stop!" Aberforth emerged from the passage and stepped past Fred. "You need all the help you can get by the looks of things." Fred smiled and sealed the passage with a charm that the most talented of death eaters would struggle to break. He stared at the solid stone wall with a sinking feeling in his stomach; that was it, they were all trapped in a castle surrounded by death eaters with no way out apart from victory or death.

"I sealed it on the other side too," Aberforth grunted.

Mr Weasley bounded into the room looking for the twins. He was slightly red in the face and was panting from having climbed up to the top floor in a hurry.

"There you are lads. Remus and Kingsley have gone up to the clock tower and I think they could do with some back up," he wheezed.

Nodding they set off back down the corridor after their Father and eventually came to one of the doors that led into the clock tower, entering just as Kingsley was requesting Dean to tell Professor Mcgonagall that a few more wands were required to defend the front of the castle. Fred followed George over the rickety bridges out on to the tower's battlements; their Father leaving them to join Kingsley inside the tower.

The twins rested their arms on the stone walls and looked out across the viaduct courtyard and the bridge lined with the enchanted suits of armour. All around them the protective shield was being attacked by hundreds of jets of light and cracks were starting to appear; the twins knew that the start of the battle was imminent. The bubble around the castle could not take the onslaught for much longer. George broke his gaze away from the horrific, yet magnificent sight before them and regarded Fred with a grin that never made it to his eyes.

"Are you ok Freddie?"

"Yeah."

"Me too". George nudged Fred gently with his elbow and they resumed their attention on the scene as the death eaters continued with their attack.

Both knew instantly that the other was lying; the brevity of Fred's response and the uncertainty in George's voice revealing that each of them were pretending to be alright. Neither of them was ok, but they stood there bravely at the battlements right on the front line waiting for it to begin; for the beginning of the end to the war. Fred considered reaching across to hold George for a moment, to tell him just how much he loved him in case the worst should happen; but he knew that he had to keep a tight rein on his emotions right now or he would fall apart. In the face of a battle where his worst fears could be realised, the potential of George reacting badly to the discovery of his twin's feelings didn't seem to matter anymore. He was going to tell him now in case this was his last chance and he opened his mouth, began to form the words on his tongue, but the resolution disappeared as quickly as it had come. He didn't want George to hate him if the worst should happen and he considered that really it did still matter. George too desperately wanted to utter the words 'I love you' to his beloved Freddie, but he felt that saying them under such circumstances would be like saying goodbye. George could not bear the pain of saying goodbye and neither could Fred.

And so they didn't speak any further but drew strength standing side by side, facing it all together until the very end, as the protective bubble ruptured and disintegrated. As it fell George prayed that it didn't take his entire world with it.

The hour was up as midnight chimed from the great clock above them. The 2nd of May was here.

And so the Battle of Hogwarts began.


	22. The Battle of Hogwarts

The twins watched in horror as the last scraps of the protective bubble fell around them. The feel of metal against George's chest felt reassuring, as he traced the outline of the pendant hidden underneath his clothing and hoped that it did indeed possess some sort of good luck property. They braced themselves for action as black shapes ascended from the ridge beyond the Castle's boundaries and headed straight towards them on the cold night air. The mass of death eaters that were approaching the castle made it clear just how heavily the defenders were outnumbered. Fred listened to the yells of several students in the courtyard below, as the first death eaters reached the castle and began their assault. Parts of the courtyard immediately went up in flames and explosions reverberated off the stone walls as part of the courtyard collapsed. Professor Mcgonagall could be heard urgently hurrying people to head inside, where they could stop the death eaters from breaching the Castle's defences.

With their position on the battlements, the twins felt horribly exposed as the first death eaters sent curses flying towards them. They both ducked behind the wall as the jets of light flew over their heads and hit the wall behind them. Stone and chunks of masonry fell to the ground, but remarkably the wall remained standing. Fred coughed violently as the settling dust irritated his lungs. With a few well aimed expelliarmous spells George disarmed the several death eaters circling the tower and sent them screaming to the ground, unable to maintain their flight without a wand. The sound of shattering glass indicated that a death eater had breached one of the clock tower's windows, but within ten seconds he was flung back out of it by either their Father or Kingsley.

With grunts of exertion the twins repeatedly dived and re-emerged to send returning volleys of spells against the assailants. For a quarter of an hour they managed to repel the invaders from reaching the clock tower; but as George turned to his left the flicker of orange coming from the Astronomy tower showed that there the defenders had had less success and it was highly likely that the castle had been breached.

The clang of metal now sounded over the cold night air as Fred looked out across the viaduct courtyard and over onto the bridge where the suits of armour were attempting to repulse giants that had joined Voldemort's cause. One of the monsters was brought crashing to the ground, but at the cost of dozens of the armoured statues. It was inevitable that at least several giants would make it to the courtyard, George thought. The din of battle was increasing, screams and shouts were perceptible despite their height above the battle that was now taking place in the courtyard below, as the defenders heroically attempted to repel the death eaters from breaching the castle's main entrance. George cursed as he was hit by a jinx; although luckily it was relatively minor and after a minute of jarring sensations all along his body he was able to once again assist Fred in their defence. His twin had panicked when he had seen George hit by the jet of light, his eyes nearly deceiving him into believing that it was deathly green in colour. But quickly recovering, George sent a curse of his own at the culprit who too went tumbling to earth to be finished off by the defenders below. Today they were fighting to kill, but both twins as yet had refrained from using that most unforgivable of curses. Their moral fibre could not accommodate something like that but Fred knew that if it came to the question of George's life that he would not hesitate to use it.

A group of defenders swept by them on Broomsticks; Fred identified Oliver Wood, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson amongst their number. Oliver briefly acknowledged them with a thumbs up, but from Angelina there was no recognition. In an instant they were gone, circling around the courtyard and assisting the besieged defenders there.

More and more black cloaked figures were in the air and their position was becoming untenable; although the tower's wall was guarding their backs, spells were being sent at them from directly overhead and from these there was little cover. Fred's heart nearly stopped as the first jet of green he had seen that night landed a mere two inches from George's head; his twin's eyes widened in shock and fright but he maintained his nerve and darted out of the way of the following curses.

Fred was filled with rage so strong that he was quaking, as he saw how close his twin had come to death. He released his full fury on a death eater who dared to land several yards away from them on the battlements; but as he honed in on his target he failed to notice another death eater diving towards them.

George heard her scream "reducto" and reacted within those two precious seconds that he had before she finished casting the curse.

"Protego!" He screamed as a silvery shield appeared in front of Fred and the curse rebounded off it a fraction of a second after the shield had been formed. There was no time for Fred to thank his twin, no time for them to speak at all as he quickly doused a small fire that had erupted on the tower above them. Thankfully the gush of water that was propelled from Fred's wand was enough to prevent the whole of the tower igniting. It was easy to get absorbed in their tiny segment of the battle, as George took a quick look at the landscape to deduce how the attack was going in general. Things were not going in the Order's favour at all, people screamed before they met their deaths and huge chunks of stone were falling from the castle. Nearly every tower was on fire, as George watched half of the Astronomy tower collapse, leaving a gaping hole in its west side. George watched it go shell shocked, hoping that nobody had been there; even though he knew that the tower would not have been left undefended by the Order.

"George we can't stay here, we need to get inside now!" Fred yelled as he flicked his wand against yet another assailant. Red sparks erupted and the death eater fell; they clutched the edge of the battlements but losing their grip slowly slid and disappeared into the abyss.

George saw the wisdom in Fred's command; if they stayed out in the open like this for much longer they were going to die. George followed his twin into the clock tower where they ran full pelt across the bridges and headed for the door on the far side that lead down into the main castle. Kingsley and their father were nowhere to be seen, it seemed that the defence of the tower had been abandoned; but for the life of him Fred could not understand why they had not been warned. Now they were overwhelmed, as dozens of death eaters entered the clock tower and sent jets of green light after their retreating backs. Fred flung the door open and they descended several flights of stair onto the sixth floor. They ran along a corridor which was filled with a cloud of debris, covering their noses with their sleeves to prevent them from inhaling the dust.

Without warning the corridor's floor collapsed from beneath them as the side of the castle was hit with an explosion that caused the walls to shake around them. With a leap George managed to reach the part of the floor that remained standing, but with a jolt he turned to reach for Fred who had been running by the side of him, but had not reached the edge of where the floor had collapsed. He reached out wildly behind him and grabbed something warm and solid; it was Fred's hand. George grunted under Fred's weight as his feet missed the edge and he dropped into the gap, nothing preventing him from falling apart from his twin's grasp. George gasped as he lost Fred's palm to it being slippery with sweat and now he was clutching nothing but his fingers.

Fred looked at the significant drop to the corridor below and knew that in all likelihood he would not survive the fall. George could not reach for his wand without compromising his hold of Fred and there was nobody in the corridor below to help them.

"Hold on!" George implored, his pitch increased with terror, as he was pulled closer to the edge by Fred's weight.

"George. Let go! I'm going to pull you over with me," Fred cried as he struggled to keep hold of his twin's hand.

"Don't you dare let go! If you go, you take me with you."

Straining himself George pulled Fred against the rock of the floor, where he could grip a protruding piece of masonry with his free hand. With Herculean effort George pulled him up several inches and managed to grasp his lower arm with his other hand. Swinging his leg up with determination, the tip of Fred's boot made contact with the protruding piece of rock and he used it to lever himself up. This released some of his weight from George, who was able to pull him up higher so that he could grab both of his arms and haul him to safety.

The twins sat in a heap gasping and shaking; Fred placed a gentle hand on George's shoulder to try and calm him from the shock, but there was no chance for them to hug and reflect on their close encounter as two death eaters burst in through the corridor's windows and proceeded to attack them. Cursing, Fred dragged George to his feet and they dueled back to back as another figure entered the scene behind them and tried to surround them. George had exerted so much energy hauling Fred to safety that he struggled to hold his own, but summoning up his reserves he continued to dive and twist and send spells at their opponents. After an exhausting duel that lasted close to ten minutes the twins were victorious and the death eaters slumped unconscious on the dust coated floor. But in the face of everything their small victory seemed to the twins to be insignificant.

They negotiated the fallen debris and unconscious death eaters and turned into yet another corridor where Percy, Kingsley and Katie Bell were running towards them at a sprint.

"There you are," Kingsley gasped. "The death eaters are trying to enter the school by two of the secret passageways. Out of everyone you two know them best. I've brought your brother and Katie to help each of you."

 _Each of us?...No._ Fred instantly knew what Kingsley was asking; he wanted them to split up to cover more ground. Two twins and seven secret passageways did not add up, as fear flooded him causing his breathing to become more erratic. The twins had not planned for this, they had expected to stay together for the duration of the battle, separation had not been added to the equation. Fred found that he was shaking imperceptibly, to not know if George was okay; how did Kingsley think that he could bear it? But Kingsley didn't understand, nobody did; the sacrifice that they were being asked to make. Fred turned to consult silently with George, dreading the emotions that he would see in his twin's eyes and indeed as expected the fear and terror there mirrored his own. But as they regarded one another, each knew that they couldn't refuse Kingsley's plea for their help, as if they did they were going to have to live with the guilt. Despite the pain the twins could not find it within themselves to be selfish and so another dreaded moment of separation had come again. It was what they had been anxiously anticipating for months and now that the moment was finally here, it was agony. Fred had no idea how in the heat of battle he could walk calmly away from George and now he wished that they'd had a longer conversation than those seven short words which had been uttered. There was so much that needed to be said, and yet with Kingsley stood waiting for his answer there was no time left in which to say it.

"Sure Kingsley, I'll go with Katie," George's voice wavered slightly but that was the only outward sign that he was anything but calm and collected.

Fred's heart was pounding, no offence to Percy but he didn't quite trust him to watch his back like George would and he didn't trust himself to watch anybody's back while he was fretting about the possibilty of his twin lying dead in some part of the castle, when he could have been there to prevent it.

"Yeah sure thing Kingsley," he muttered. Kingsley regarded them respectfully for a moment seeing their obvious reluctance to be separated and admiring their bravery in the face of this. He inclined his head and headed towards the distant sounds of battle.

Percy began to move off after Kingsley and then realising that he had no idea where any of the secret passages were waited for Fred to lead the way.

"We'll check the one on the fourth floor first," Fred managed to let out in a voice several octaves higher than usual.

George nodded unable to speak, unable to move away from his twin. Fred summoned up the strength he would need to leave George, observing that George couldn't do it.

"See you later George, I'll meet you in the hall;" he said over the noise of several new explosions. The shaking of the floor underneath them reminded him that they should get going and Fred moved away, deciding to make it quick rather than the agony of a protracted parting. He wanted to hug George but knew that if he did that the courage he had summoned would evaporate and they would have failed everybody. So without looking back once Fred motioned for Percy to follow him further down the corridor; there was a deep foreboding in the pit of his soul and he had to fight back tears. There was something telling him that one of them was going to die that night.

George watched him go with a heavy heart, feeling as if he were choking and being deprived of air. Fred was his oxygen and George struggled to breathe calmly without him. Fred got further and further away and he hadn't yet turned back, as he neared the corner of the corridor George knew that he wasn't going to and understand completely why; imagining how painful each step must be for his twin. George drank in every aspect of Fred's familiar figure as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view. He stood and stared down the empty corridor for several moments, praying that this would not be the last time he ever saw him.

"Let's get going George," Katie prompted him.

"Right, the one eyed witch passageway is by the stairs to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom." He turned on his heel and proceeded to walk back the way they had came; he paused before a doorway listening for any sounds of fighting but there was silence. They proceeded down a corridor with a disused bathroom and came out onto the grand staircase shortly afterwards. He tried to pretend that Katie's footsteps were Fred's, but the pace was all wrong and so he found it impossible to deceive himself. Descending several floors they came to the heart of the battle as they came across more defenders being pursued by death eaters.

"Stupefy," a red jet of light erupted from George's wand and sent a death eater tumbling down several flights of stairs. Cho Chang regarded George gratefully, as the first syllable uttered by the death eater had made the spell they were going to use easily discernible.

"Thanks George"; she wiped at a bleeding cut on her cheek and blinked several times as if expecting Fred to suddenly materialise. Pity filled her as she realised they'd been forced to separate.

"No problem Cho," George replied woodenly.

Cho accompanied them to the second floor, progress was slow as they encountered death eater after death eater blocking their path. There were so many within the heart of the castle that George knew they were too late. Blocking up the passages again would be pointless when the enemy was already where they wanted to be; they had separated for nothing.

They approached the statue of the one eyed Witch, her hump was open and a death eater was climbing up the slope that led down into the tunnel.

"Incarcerous," George yelled and the death eater was instantly bound by tight cords.

With another flick of his wand George sealed the passage's entrance. "I guess we stay here and make sure no one else tries to use it. A password isn't needed to get in from the other side; this passage is probably their best way in."

Katie nodded and rubbed George's shoulder comfortingly. "Fred will be fine," she said.

George looked up and down the wreckage of the corridor they were in and couldn't help but doubt her words.

A student who George didn't know approached them at a run. "We're being overwhelmed in the courtyard...Giants".

"I'll come, these two need to guard this passage," Cho said and followed the student away at a run.

George brushed some of the dust from his jacket, his heart pounding at every yell and scream to fill the castle. A monstrous roar from the main courtyard proved the student's report that the giants had made it past the enchanted armour. One by one their defences were failing them and they were being overwhelmed as the night wore on and the battle seemed to increase in its intensity.

Raucous laughter sounded from the end of the corridor as a pack of death eaters came into view blasting chunks of stone from the Castle's walls. Their enjoyment in the destruction of Hogwarts angered George and he ran at them recklessly; a very Freddish thing to do he thought. A woman with black hair scraped into a severe bun laughed at him and she raised her wand to kill him, but George swerved away from the spell and began to duel the group of death eaters singlehandedly; his desire to find Fred propelling him to great effort. He heard Katie shouting several hexes from behind him and one of the death eaters collapsed to the ground clutching their face which had sprouted tentacles. George battled on; but without Fred fighting by his side his power seemed greatly diminished.

* * *

Fred and Percy had found the passage on the fourth floor still blocked up and impregnable to any death eater who attempted to use it. The worry was so painful for Fred that he converted it to anger against the death eaters who had been the cause of it all. He felt murderous, as the violent spark in him fully ignited and he chose to act upon his darker side. As Sirius Black had once said we all have light and dark in us and Fred who had always basked in the light now chose the dark, for the light had failed to keep George by his side. Percy was much further down the corridor dealing with a death eater who was nearly twice the size of him.

"Avada Kedarva!" A jet of green burst from Fred's wand and struck the death eater he was fighting in the heart. The life quickly left the man's eyes and he slumped to the ground lifeless. Horror filled Fred as he registered what he had just done; he was a murderer and he felt sick to his stomach as he regarded the body before him. What if he was under the imperious curse and he'd just killed somebody who was being forced to fight against their will? What would everybody think of him now?

He'd used an unforgivable curse and was sure that none of the other defenders would stoop to the death eater's level like him, as shame filled him. He looked at the wand in his hand with disgust; wands with Dragon heartstrings were the easiest to turn to the dark arts but they did not incline that way themselves. Fred was horrified at the darkness within him as he pushed it away and allowed the light to take back control. He knew that if he lost George that the light in him would be cast aside forever. He'd be dangerous, unhinged; the light in him would die with George.

Percy rushed back to his side, barely looking at the dead body lying at his younger brother's feet or taking in the self loathing on Fred's face. His attire was no longer impeccable, his hair was ridden with dust, his clothing torn and the frames of his horn rimmed glasses were bent.

"Do you think we get a break now?" Percy laughed, but no sooner had the words left his mouth two cloaked and hooded death eaters apparated in a short distance away and approached them with their wands held out menacingly. Without hesitation the brothers sprang forward to duel them, their hoods fell back revealing them to be Rookwood and Pius Thicknesse; the Minister for magic who was a puppet under Voldemort's control, whilst in reality for the past nine months it had been Voldemort who had ran the country.

Fred and Rookwood's duel took them further up the corridor away from Percy and Thicknesse who were engaged in a fierce struggle.

"Did I mention I'm resigning minister?" Percy yelled.

A smile broke out on Fred's face. "You're joking Perce! I haven't heard you joke since-"

"Bombarda Maxima!"

The air exploded and the side of the castle was blown completely away. Fred's smile turned into shock as he was swept off his feet and slammed against the far wall. The force of the impact took his breath away and agony washed over him as he felt his spine break and rocks colliding with his body. The energy from the explosion tore through him, wrecking devestating internal damage and his heart felt so painfully near to bursting. He tried to suck in air, but all he heard was a long drawn out rattle like a Dementor and he knew that it was the death rattle, as his vision began to dim and his head rang. For Fred the world had suddenly become silent as his ear drums burst from the pressure of the explosion and tears escaped from his eyes as he knew he would never hear George's beloved voice again. His sight dimmed further as the darkness crept over him, over his pain ridden body as more chunks of stone fell around him, partially burying him in rubble. There was nobody to hold his hand, no one to hold him as he died and ease his passage from life, as more lonely tears trailed down Fred's cheeks and the pain became so intense that the draw of death was almost welcome. As Fred took his last breath, as his heart beat for the last time and ground to a halt, images of George came to comfort him. Excruciating agony accompanied these images, as he knew that he was leaving George to the pain of losing his twin. He'd never been able to tell George the truth and now as he lay dying there was nothing he wanted more than a chance to kiss that soft mouth.

_I love you George. I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you!_

Fred slipped away into the darkness, silently professing his love for George to the last. The light had left his brown eyes, as they stared at the gaping holes in the ceiling without seeing. The sparkle had vanished to be replaced by a glassy stare, the eyelashes coated in dust. His corpse lay there amidst the destruction bloody and broken.

Percy clamoured to his feet, his ears still ringing as he looked down the corridor for his brother. "Fred? No! No! Fred! Oh god no! Rockwood!" Fred's lifeless body was left gathering the settling dust as Percy chased after his brother's murderer seeking vengeance.

And once again Voldemort's whisperings penetrated the minds of every living thing in the castle, as the world carried on even though a beautiful light had gone out. A light that had brought so much joy, so much happiness, that had eased people's sufferings was gone.

Fred Weasley was dead.

* * *

In another part of the castle George's wand spun out of his hand, his back against the castle wall as the witch stood over him, only the timely command of her Master had stopped her casting that unforgivable spell. He had collapsed under a terrible clutching sensation in his chest, as his face contorted in pain and he reached desperately to the right for his wand; but obeying Voldemort's orders the death eater disappeared. George felt as if his heart had been pulled from his chest and he panted completely winded, wondering what kind of curse he'd been hit with.

It had been no spell that had done this to him.

 _Dispose of your dead with dignity._ How George hoped that none of his family were among their number.

"George are you alright. You just collapsed," Katie said panicked as she hauled him to his feet.

"Yeah," he lied, feeling within his very bones that there was something very wrong indeed.

"I'm going to go and find Fred and Percy," he mumbled.

"Ok, I'll go see if they need any help in the hall." Katie walked away up the corridor and George decided to check the fourth floor, judging that it was likely that Fred and Percy were still there.

Taking a shortcut behind a moth eaten tapestry, he ascended a narrow winding staircase that would take him straight up to the fourth floor. Pushing the latch down on the oak door at the top of the flight he frantically pushed at the door and emerged onto a wrecked corridor. He navigated the piles of debris and turned the corner onto a similar scene of destruction. Hogwarts once so majestic was now nearly unrecognisable. George's heart plummeted every time he came across a still body sprawled in the dust. Even the sight of a dead death eater aroused George's emotions; so much waste of life when it never needed to come to this.

Finally George entered the corridor where the fourth floor secret passage was located, but like all the others he had passed through it was devoid of life. He guessed that his twin and Percy must have made their way to the Great Hall where it had been agreed that everybody would convene once battle had ceased.

"Fred? Percy? FRED!" Deafening silence greeted him, as he strained to hear the beautiful and welcome sound of Fred's voice calling to him in relief. But there was only silence.

He walked further along the corridor and gasped at the size of a hole which had been blown in the castle's wall, as cold night air filled the wreckage of what was once a corridor but was now open to the elements.

"Fuck." He was glad that nobody had been here when the enormous explosion had rocked the Castle's very foundations. He had felt it two floors below as he had dueled the female death eater and had prayed that Fred had been nowhere near it. Thankfully it seemed to George in that moment of calm before the storm that Fred and Percy had left the area long before it had happened.

He walked past the hole that had been torn into the castle, kicking at several stones and had just made his mind up to turn around and head back downstairs when a flash of colour caught the corner of his eye and he moved around the pile of rubble to find its source. The ginger stood out a mile from the grim greyness of the scene; its brightness attracting his attention to the rest of the figure that was revealed lying spread eagled among the rubble, as he moved closer with a lump in his throat.

He blinked several times not wanting to believe what his eyes were seeing, no it couldn't be; the fear had taken over his vision. His twin was not lying there lifeless amongst the wreckage; his double, his other half could not be dead. They were the inseparable Weasley twins, this couldn't happen to them;it wasn't real. George closed his eyes tightly for several seconds and opened them again, but the still body was still there. His Freddie was dead.

A sound of agonising grief burst from George's throat, as he fell to his knees beside Fred. He felt numb, torn in two and now he knew what that sensation in his chest had been. It had been his other half being torn from him; he had felt the moment that Fred had died. Tears slipped unchecked down his dusty cheeks as he reached a trembling hand to touch Fred's hand. He was already cold and painful sobs wracked George's body as he bent over him and saw his own distraught reflection mirrored in Fred's glassy eyes.

"Fred! No! No! Freddie... You can't be...You can't leave me...We said that we'd be fine...Wake up...oh please wake up...No...I never told you...I never told you..."

He trailed his fingers gently down Fred's cheek and stroked his hair as he continued to sob heavily at the sight of his worst fear realised. George's whole world crashed down around him as he felt that half of him had died with Fred. So consumed with grief was he that he couldn't think, couldn't breathe. He felt numb, empty. His twin was gone, gone and he hadn't been there with him in his last moments.

"I never even told you that I loved you," George moaned in anguish; as his sobs intensified and he thought of their conversation up on the battlements. Their last ever conversation. George felt raw, physical pain as he realised that he would never talk to Fred again, never see the beautiful sparkle of his eyes, never touch him, never smell him, never enjoy another day with him. Nothing would ever be the same again. George wanted to die too.

The wrecked corridor was filled with George's agonized scream as he drew Fred's limp body to him and cradled it, rocking his dead twin in his arms and stroking his face, begging him over and over again to come back to him. Fred grew colder and colder as the lone Weasley twin continued to hold him, sobs still wracking his entire being.

He had no idea how long he had been there as for George time ceased to matter, for all he knew the battle could have resumed, but he didn't care any more. His twin was gone and he'd lost the will to fight.

A small group of students lead by Neville Longbottom emerged onto the scene, on the unsettling mission of retrieving the bodies of the fallen. At the sound of George's raw sobs they rushed forward and stood a respectful distance away; their countenances betraying how moved they were by the sight of George holding Fred with tears streaming down his face. Neville inched closer and knelt down beside him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. He blinked back his own tears; even the most cold hearted of people would be affected by George's raw grief and Neville had been friendly with the twins. It tore at his heartstrings to see the cheerful, charismatic and funny twins reduced to this grief; George was unrecognizable to the happy person that Neville was used to. Since childhood only Fred had ever seen seen him cry, but now Fred was gone.

"George let's take him away from here, yeah?" Neville asked gently, now rubbing his shoulder with sympathy.

George nodded, his face streaked with tears, but his eyes remained focused on Fred's still body. He was unable to speak, with his throat feeling so constricted and he knew that if he did he would break down completely.

So with trembling fingers he once again reached towards his twin's face and gently closed his eyelids; now his Freddie could be sleeping. George's bottom lip also trembled, he couldn't deceive himself, Fred was not asleep. His chest was not rising and falling, his lips were not parted catching flies and he was not mumbling or curled up in a ball. No. He was lying rigid, silent and still. George felt like he was drifting apart without Fred there to hold him together; his rock, his anchor was gone. He felt like a building with its foundations removed, a second away from collapse.

"He was over here; George had to go with Katie Bell," Percy's voice could be heard. The small group parted to allow Percy and Mr Weasley through; Mr Weasley's face was tight and expressionless as he gazed blankly down at his son's dead body and his twin crying over him.

"George we need to take him to the hall now; everything's going to be okay" he said slowly as George's blank expression clearly indicated that he had shut himself off from the outside world, so wrapped up in grief was he.

For the first time since George had come across Fred's body he looked up briefly, the tear streaks glistened in the corridor's dim light and Mr Weasley was horrified to see the dead look in his eyes and prayed that he wasn't going to lose two sons tonight. _Okay? How could anything ever be okay again?_

George still had a tight hold of his twin and couldn't bear to release him.

"George. Let go now. He's gone, there's nothing you can do," Mr Weasley said, his voice wobbling. Neville conjured a stretcher, at the sight of which George began to sob quietly again and held Fred tighter. _Don't take him away...please._

Knowing that he had to be cruel to be kind, Mr Weasley pulled George's shaking arms away from Fred; George was now shaking so much that he couldn't maintain his hold and with a cry of pain watched as Neville and Percy loaded Fred onto the stretcher. He tried to get to him but Mr Weasley held him back.

"Don't make this harder for yourself George," he begged, as he tried to put his arms around his son, but George wrenched himself free; hands held over his face as silent sobs wracked his body and he convulsed with the force of them. Death had separated them in spirit and now he wasn't even allowed to stay with Fred's body.

He removed his hands partially and a purple sparkle amongst the rubble caught his eye. Bending down under his Father's pitying gaze he retrieved the small object: it was Fred's pendant. The chain was broken and the G was slightly bent; George closed it inside his fist trembling even more as he drew ever closer to the abyss. Had they really been naive enough to believe that a stupid good luck pendant could prevent this? Mr Weasley watched with tears slipping down his face, if George fell into his despair he knew that they would lose him forever. Alive, but not living.

George raised a boot from where he'd been about to step on a shard of wood and bent to pick it up. There was no doubt about it; it was a piece of Fred's wand. He dropped to his knees and blindly searched amongst the rubble for the other pieces.

"George. George. Leave it. That's probably all that's left," Mr Weasley entreated him, but George continued to sift through the rocks. His determination to recover it prevailed and he clutched the four broken pieces in his hand, wetting them with tears as he pushed them into one of his jacket pockets.

"Right, let's go. Molly will need to know," his Father's voice trembled as he levitated the stretcher and began to walk in the direction of the hall. Percy approached George slowly and held out his arms; George allowed himself to be squeezed awkwardly for a second before Percy released him and beckoned him to follow after the stretcher. Neville and the other students continued in their search for bodies, spirits at rock bottom as they'd never imagined that one of the larger than life Weasley twins would be among their number.

The numbness overwhelmed George and he found it nearly impossible to move, but Fred's ginger hair provided him with the motivation to walk after his Father. He didn't want to let Fred out of his sight.

The birthday gift was still clutched safely in his fist. _Never again will we have another birthday together. Oh God. Fred. Why couldn't you take me with you? That was how it was supposed to be. How can I go on without you? I can't. You'll never know how I felt. Why didn't I tell you. What if you felt the same? All that time that I wasted not being honest with you. You can't be gone. Fred?_

A multitude of thoughts, all depressing occupied George as he followed the stretcher with heavy footsteps. The sounds of mourning from the hall grew louder as they neared the tragedy that was unfolding in the heart of the castle and George knew that he was not alone in his suffering. But nobody's grief could ever be like his, as nobody had lost somebody who'd been with them every day since they were born. Fred was his life and now that life was gone. Why didn't he die too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading everyone and for the reviews I've had! There's going to be at least another ten chapters, but as I'm starting university soon updates will probably be more infrequent, but I solemnly swear I will finish it! Now before everyone hates me for this chapter remember what I put in the summary. :) I'm also going to make a small change to the chapter 'Birthday Wishes', as I think it would be cool if Fabian and Gideon Prewett were twins. When I first published it I stated that they were brothers, in Canon it isn't stated either way it seems.


	23. For Fred

As they approached this scene of desolation, Bill and Fleur emerged from the great wooden doors of the hall and stopped abruptly as they were confronted by the small procession behind the stretcher. George tried to steel himself, his head bowed; he didn't know how he would be able to bear the sight of the rest of his family's grief.

"Dad?" Bill came nearer the stretcher to observe its occupant, took one glance at George's face and jumped back with a sound of dismay as several tears coursed down his scarred cheeks. Fleur clapped her hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking and she muttered something in French. Once again sobs started to shake George's body, but no amount of tears could reveal the full extent of his grief; his pain was indescribable. Percy patted his back and George felt grateful for his presence, Percy seemed to understand that there was nothing that could be said which would make it better. He feared how people would try to comfort him when all he wanted was to be left alone and submerge himself in his catastrophic loss.

Mr Weasley raised his wand again and the stretcher moved forwards, past the doors and the rows of the injured being attended to, but the injured quickly gave way to lines of the dead and George's heart jarred as he recognised Remus and Tonks laid out together. Together.

_Why couldn't we be together?_

But then he thought of the new born son that would never know his parents and cursed himself for his selfishness. Without Fred he didn't know who he was; how could he be the kind hearted, loving person Fred had always said he was, if Fred wasn't there to make him strive to be the person that his twin loved? New tears mingled with the old, as he cried now for Remus and Tonks. Who else was gone?

Mutterings began to fill the hall as people realised who this new stretcher was bearing and several small screams filled the rafters. People could not comprehend how the happy, full of life Weasley twins could be destroyed. They had considered pain, sadness and all other emotions but joy and laughter to be alien to them, but now the mask was finally, unequivocally shattered into pieces that could never be repaired. And for the first time they were regarded as truly human, rather than an entity who made jokes to be laughed at. They could not hide behind their prankster facade now; it was over. George knew that without Fred he would be a new person; he was dying and being reborn all at once. He doubted that he'd ever laugh again. Fred was gone. His other half was dead, in his opinion his better half. It didn't seem quite real still; it still had the essence of a nightmare and when the realisation finally hit home George would belong to pain and despair.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Oliver, Katie, Lee, Alicia and Angelina grouped together and watching them go by with disbelieving faces. Angelina's face was blank, George could not fathom whether she was indifferent to the tragedy or sad that her last encounter with Fred should have ended so badly.

Mrs Weasley and Ginny were talking in low voices to Professor McGonagall; the latter of whom caught sight of the stretcher's load first. Sadness lined Minerva's aged face; the twins had been trouble makers at school yes, but she had been inordinately fond of them, recognising the good hearts beneath. Ginny stood rigid as her eyes trailed over Fred's form, the paleness of his face, the marks on his skin and the clump of blood that stained his right temple. George reached out a hand and wiped the blood away, marvelling at how uninjured he now looked from a distance.

"Arthur?...Who?...oh my poor Fred...he's hurt...let me see...we'll soon sort him out".

"No Molly," Mr Weasley's voice revealed the full extent of his pain at losing a son as he stood to the side so that Fred's still form was fully exposed to her widened gaze. She took one look at him and gave out a shriek of pain, the sound of which renewed George's tears. She threw herself across Fred's chest, stroking the orange hair that was sticking up in tufts.

"My baby, my child," she gasped between sobs. "My Fred...not again!"

"Molly why don't we put him over here," McGonagall intruded gently, gesturing to a space at the end of one of the rows below the dais. Mr Weasley nodded and gently pulled his wife away from Fred's body, holding her close to his chest, where her moans of grief could still be heard. Bill raised his wand and moved the stretcher into the space, to George a space that looked like it had been waiting for him. Cruel fate had always wanted this to happen. The twins didn't know this, but fate had been against them from the start of their lives. A fact that Mrs Weasley dwelt on, as her thoughts drifted back to the day of their birth and wished that she'd shared with them what Fred could never now know. There was one thing to comfort her, at least there wasn't two bodies lying in that space to repeat the tragedy that had hit her seventeen years ago. There wasn't two...George.

Her head snapped up from her husband's chest and she ran at the suffering twin, encircling him in her arms, holding him close and reaching up to gently wipe the tears that were still silently falling down George's devastated face. Her Boggart had been the deaths of each of her family one by one, but the twins had been together. Not even in Mrs Weasley's wildest nightmares had the twins been separated; this was cruel, too cruel. It would have almost been easier if they had both died, as she knew that really George was gone too and the shaking person that she was holding was just an empty shell. There are some losses that nobody can ever recover from and she knew that George's was one of them; the pain of losing a child was intense but she knew that nobody could truly understand what he was going through right now.

"My poor George, I know sweetheart, I know it hurts, I know. He's safe now, nobody can ever hurt him again. He wouldn't have left you if he had a choice. You know how much he loved you." But Mrs Weasley had no idea that George had never found out truly just how much his twin loved him.

Mr Weasley reached for George and hugged him tightly, as Mrs Weasley crouched over Fred; her head resting on his chest.

George felt that he should try and make a joke like everyone would expect him to as he had done when he'd been injured, but that was poking fun at himself, this was beyond laughter and he didn't have the heart. What was funny about his other half lying there cold and still? But nobody expected anything from him, respecting his right to grieve.

Another red headed figure was approaching the grieving group.

As his father rubbed his back soothingly, fresh racking sobs escaped him even though he tried desperately to keep them in, sobs that echoed throughout the hall and revealed his agonising grief. He looked over his Father's shoulder, down at Fred's corpse and he felt his heart break all over again. The sound of shuffling footsteps raised his attention. _Thank God there's nobody else,_ he thought as he left his Father's arms and ran to his only younger brother who was taking in the terrible scene that greeted him. He seized Ron roughly, as his sobs finally petered out; his energy spent. Ron broke from his grasp and bent down opposite his Mother to grieve over his fallen brother, as Hermione comforted Ginny. Bill was still holding Fleur, as he stared at his little (but taller) brother. The little brother that he couldn't protect.

George took up a position by Fred's feet, still clad in his green ankle boots. Never again would he bound excitedly into a room with George following in his wake. Percy was stood next to him, resting a hand once again on George's shoulder, as his younger brother's body shook with suppressed sobs. He gazed at Fred's long body unblinking, but eventually the sight of Ron crying over him was too much and he bowed his head, focusing on the stone floor and trying to pretend that everything was okay.

Mr Weasley noticed Harry watching a small distance away, a single tear slipping down his cheek, as he was faced with a scene that he had never wanted to happen. So many people had died, but Harry couldn't deal with a Weasley being amongst their number. The family who'd been kind enough to take him in and treat him like one of their own; they didn't deserve this. And for it to be one of the twins, Harry had hardly ever seen them apart, never heard or seen them cry, as George's sobs deeply affected him. He knew that George would never be the same again and he wished desperately that he'd appreciated the Weasley twins more than for a quick laugh. He couldn't bear to stay any longer, so much guilt was consuming him and he had no notion of how he could begin to comfort any of them. So he turned and walked away. _This is all my fault. They have all died for me._ But if Fred died for anyone first and foremost it would have been for George, that is if dying for him would have done him any good, but no, George had needed Fred to live for him. It was a meaningless sentiment where the twins were concerned.

George had no idea how long he stared at the floor but as the hall became quieter, as the sounds of grief became pitiful whimpers, he risked another look at his twin's body. Ron had stood up and was being hugged by their Father and Mrs Weasley too had removed herself from Fred and was holding Ginny, who had finally managed to cry as the reality of what had happened sunk home.

"Fred lived life to the full. He wouldn't want us to be sad, he knew what he was fighting for, he knew the risk. He rushed into battle like the confident trickster we all knew and loved; for the greater good," Arthur told them all.

George had to bite his lip to stop himself from challenging what his Father had said. _The greater good? What good was that to those who lost, to those who had to lay down their lives in sacrifice so that others could go and forget them? Yes, he knew what we were fighting for, but that doesn't mean he wasn't scared. Don't you realise Dad, Mum, Ron, Percy, Bill, Fleur and Ginny that he was terrified. He wasn't as confident as you all thought he was, he was human and...vulnerable. But I guess none of you would know any of that, he only shared those things with me. And as much as it would pain Fred to see us all cry, he wouldn't mind us being sad. He did understand pain and sadness you know, but that's the point you don't. He never showed you who he really was, yes he was confident, bold, brash, hilarious, a prankster but he was so much more than that. He was... Freddie; not always devil-may-care Fred._

_"_ I'm so sorry Mrs Weasley."

"Thank you... Hermione dear. I'm glad that you're alright."

For the first time since he had been brought into the hall, Fred was not surrounded by the rest of the family and George wasted no opportunity in sinking down beside his head and placing a hand on his chest. He lifted his top slightly and nearly howled in misery at the large, dark brushing lining his whole upper torso. He quickly pulled it down, on the verge of tears at the thought that he'd been in pain; that it hadn't been quick and easy. But Fred looked somewhat peaceful now as George leaned over him and brushed his lips softly against his forehead. His Mother was right, nobody would ever hurt him again. He was free from all the worry, from the thing that he'd never told him about. Fred was free, but George couldn't be happy because he wasn't free with him. The fear had let him go; it had George to suck the life from. As he rested against Fred, holding his hand and allowing the occasional tear to slip down his cheek, he heard voices murmuring behind him.

George supposed that it could be worse; although Fred couldn't see or talk to him, at least he could still touch him and cuddle him like this. They were sort of still together, he thought; a sad smile playing at the corner of his mouth. As long as things didn't get any worse than this...

"George?" His Father's voice was firm but gentle. "The...bodies are being moved to the chamber next to the hall. You need to step away now...George?"

_No! Please don't take him...Oh god...please don't take him away...Oh no...you're not...He can't be gone...He's my soul mate...my everything...Freddie...I...I...Oh please no._

George couldn't face the horror of what was going to come next, there was no truly humane way of dealing with a body that was going to decompose. George gagged, as he looked up and saw a short wizard stood next to his father bearing a large white sheet. Couldn't they leave him alone to grieve? A surge of protectiveness filled him, he wasn't going to let anyone touch Fred. _He's mine._

Arms were pulling at him now trying to remove him from Fred's body again, but George wasn't shaking from the initial shock now, he was filled with determination that he and Fred's body would not be parted. But there were more than one pair of arms tugging him away and he felt his grip slipping, as somebody was prising his fingers from where they were curled around Fred's cold ones.

"No! Don't take him please. Just another minute please. Don't you understand. I need," he sobbed.

"George, Fred is gone, this is just a body. Please don't make this harder for everyone. We're all devastated-" Arthur paused realising how harsh his words must have sounded.

"Come over here mate," Ron tried to cajole him, sniffing, offering a hand, but George shook his head and bent his head down to Fred's again, talking to him.

"Please forgive me Freddie."

To all those watching, it seemed that he had been driven mad with grief; it was understandable but unsettling. _Please try and understand. I need to be close to him,_ he silently begged his family.

"George. Come and sit down." Ginny's voice was in his ear now and Hermione too.

"Yes, have some water. It's going to be okay."

One by one each of his family members attempted to entreat him to move, but with the old Weasley twin stubbornness he refused to budge. Exchanging looks, those gathered prepared themselves for something heart wrenching. Together Bill and Arthur roughly grasped George's arms and tore him away from Fred's body; but George still had hold of Fred's fingers and had pulled his upper body off the stretcher. Bill broke his grasp, as George's pained scream rang through the hall. There was silence apart from the sound of his agonized cries, as everyone ceased what they were doing and watched sadly.

"Poppy, can we get a calming draft over here please," Minerva asked quietly.

The wizard placed the sheet over Fred, pulling it up over his face. As his twin disappeared from sight George completely lost the will to go on. The wizard assisted by one of the students carried the stretcher away, away from George and out of the hall.

He was quiet now, too quiet as he freed himself from the restraining arms of Bill and his father and sank down onto one of the benches. The dead look in his eyes had intensified, they were empty of life and clouded with pain and sorrow. Madame Pomfrey walked quickly over to them, bearing a large beaker of calming draft which she tried to force down his throat, but George refused it.

"Drink it George. It'll make you feel better, make it all go away." Mrs Weasley's voice was slow and with a tone that was reminiscent of a Doctor talking to a psychiatric patient.

"I'm not a nutter," he said firmly. "I want to feel like shit, he deserves this grief...I just... I want to die too."

There was a collective gasp at this and Mrs Weasley's face paled, nobody knew what to say.

But to George's grief was added a fierce determination, a desire for vengeance. If they failed now Fred would have died in vain, for nothing. George couldn't have this and swore to Fred that he would do everything he could to make the death eaters pay for what they had done. He would continue to fight, he would avenge his twin and then he would join him. And so George wiped his face free from the tears, but anyone who looked at him would be able to see how deeply he was grieving. The sunken eyes, the pale cheeks, the creased skin that made him look far older than twenty; all indicated that George was in pain. But now he was quiet and seemingly composed, regretting his outburst as they had taken Fred away, at showing his pure animal grief. It had been horrible for everyone to see, more horrible that the person so lost in grief was one whom they had never seen to be anything but happy.

Ginny pressed a glass of water into his hand and obediently George drank, his actions were methodical and automatic. There was no life in them, he only drank to keep his body running so that he could ensure that Fred's life would not be wasted. He was vaguely aware of Percy sinking down onto the bench beside him, as memories filled his mind. How many times had they sat on these benches whilst they were at school, all the times they'd been in this hall, all the good times; they'd never had any idea that only a few short years later that the castle would become a place of pain and despair. The place of separation. George was adamant that he would never come here again, to the place where Fred had died. All George could associate it with now was death and the destruction of his entire life, it dominated and overshadowed all the happy, glorious memories with his twin as they had roamed Hogwart's halls. All the pranks they'd played here, the laughter, the relative freedom from their Mother's stern rebukes, cheating the age line, finding the Marauder's map, playing Quiditch, visits to Hogsmeade. None of that could take away from the pain.

"I'm sorry George. I really am. It was all my fault, I was there and I could have saved him," Percy whispered. "I should have saved him; I should have died instead for everything that I've done. I wish so much that I'd accepted your offer that day in the alley, all that time that I've wasted. I know that me and you pair didn't always get on because I was such a prat, but I have always loved you both. Heck, I've even admired you for how you were always brave enough to go your own way, with so many people telling you to be like everyone else. I'm here for you if you need me. I'm so sorry."

Tears were slipping down Percy's cheeks, as he hugged George tightly.

"It wasn't your fault," he croaked. "He...Fred... wouldn't blame you at all. There was nothing that you could have done. I should have been there; if it's anyone's fault it was mine."

"George, of course it wasn't...Don't," Percy pleaded, but George couldn't help but feel that it was all his fault. _I shouldn't have let us be separated._

"I just need to know that it was quick, that he wasn't hurting, that he didn't know what was even happening." George turned to look his brother in the eyes and Percy could see the last vestiges of hope there; he knew that if he told George the truth that he'd never see hope in those brown eyes again. He'd been too dazed for several minutes to get up and check that Fred was alright, so for all he knew Fred might not have died straight away but he was not going to allow George to dwell on the possibility of that, he was in enough pain.

"Yes. Yes, George it was. He wouldn't have known. We were joking, he was happy," he said with false confidence. But George was so eager to hear what he wanted to hear that he didn't search for the uncertainty in Percy's voice. If he knew what Fred had felt at the moment of death, that it wasn't quick and easy his pain would be beyond anything known to humanity.

George nodded, unable to speak any further; he would not speak again for some time.

His and Fred's friends joined them, muttering their sympathies and looking devastated. Oliver clapped George on the back, a little too forcefully so that he almost fell off the seat. George was now able to ascertain that Angelina's expression was one of guilt; it seemed that everyone was feeling guilty about his death.

"I never even apologised for my behaviour," she sniffed. "I'm really sorry George."

He merely nodded again, unsure whether he quite forgave her for hurting Fred and accusing him of those awful things. As for how she'd acted towards him, he really couldn't give a damm.

"He'll be up there laughing at us all now,"Lee tried to smile.

George again found himself disagreeing; Fred would be crying too if there was something after death. Crying that he'd been separated from George and had left him behind, no, George knew that Fred would be suffering just as much as he was.

Sadly, the group moved away, seeing that George was best left alone right now and feeling helpless to ease his mind. He looked up and saw Ron and Hermione leaving the hall, seeking some peace away from the tragedy in the Great Hall. In the far corner of the hall Madame Pomfrey was still attending to the injured; George felt selfish at the thought that he wasn't doing anything to help anyone; the only person he could think of was Fred and he was beyond his help now. He thought that merely continuing to fight was all that people could ask of him right now, when all he wanted was to join the bodies laid out in the adjoining chamber and lie peacefully next to his twin.

George had no idea how much time had passed as he stared down at his lap, when Ron and Hermione burst through the doors again and headed towards a group of remaining Order members who were conversing in low voices. Once the hour was over Voldemort himself would enter the battle and they knew that he had powers which they had no hope of repelling. As George watched the pair approach he felt like an observer on the fringes of his own life, the life that was now meaningless to him. He noticed something decidedly different in the way that Ron and Hermione were interacting with one another, something altered in their body language, finally he felt they must have revealed their feelings for each other. He felt happy for them, but at the same time a deep sadness that he'd had so many opportunities to confess to Fred how he felt and he hadn't seized any of them and now it was too late. He would never know, never get to see that he was right about Ron and Hermione and never even know the result of everything that he'd fought for.

"Harry's given himself up to Voldemort," Hermione blurted quickly. At her news there were many groans and urgent mutterings. Mrs Weasley paled; it was like losing another son.

"Why?" She stammered.

"It was the only way," Hermione said. "He's a horcrux. Voldemort can't die...unless." There was general confusion at her words and Hermione regretted them the instant that they had left her mouth. Few people knew what horcruxes were, being a magic so dark and containing so many consequences for the soul of the user that they were kept as secret as possible. George however, knew exactly what she was talking about. He and Fred had found a book once during a trip down Knockturn Alley which they had hoped their Mother would never find out about. The book had been vague, but with the twin's intelligence they had figured that there must be some reason why Voldemort had managed to survive. The twins had liked to joke that they were one soul split into two and George knew that although that wasn't quite true that he would never be whole again. Was he less than human now like Voldemort?

All they could do was wait. After forty minutes not moving from his position on the bench with Percy next to him he heard the distant sound of many feet approaching from outside. He jumped to his feet and joined the head of the throng of people who were approaching the source of the noise, fuelled by his desire to avenge Fred. He would fight for him.

The entrance hall was nearly completely destroyed, the doors leading out on to the courtyard blown off their hinges and George could see the ocean of black shapes advancing towards them along the bridge that was littered with the remains of the enchanted armour. George paused in the frame of the hall's doorway next to his Mother and watched them walk slowly towards them; Voldemort was at the centre and there was Hagrid holding someone.

Light was slowly spreading across the horizon, it was early morning, but the terrors brought by night had not left with the darkness. A weak, pale sun was attempting to break through the clouds. It had been hours since they had been at Aunt Muriel's simply waiting for something to happen. They'd had no idea that they had so little time left, George thought as he blinked back tears to clear his vision.

The tide of bedraggled students, teachers and Order members rushed down the steps leading down to the courtyard. George took one look at who Hagrid was holding and felt his heart plummet a little further; Harry was dead. Without Harry everyone would lose their will to fight and Fred would have died for nothing. He felt sad that Harry was dead too, but with his heart so occupied by his loss of Fred there was little room for him to grieve as much as he would have for the boy that he and Fred had always considered to be like another little brother.

The line of death eaters jeered and cackled as Voldemort urged them to join him as there were several cries from the crowd as Harry's body was displayed so that everybody could see. Ginny ran forward and was only prevented from a reckless action by their Father's quick reflex. George felt numb again. This was it; the final showdown and as he looked at how many death eaters there were he felt sure that they couldn't possibly win. He would be with Fred soon he thought, as he watched Draco Malfoy crossing the courtyard to join his parents and receiving the most awkward hug from Voldemort in the history of humanity. George almost pitied him, he'd never known what it was to love someone as much as he loved Fred.

Draco had seemed reluctant to go and George wished that he'd summoned up the courage to stay put; he may have been a bullying git but the twins had always said that he was no death eater. It wasn't his fault that he'd been born into such a family; the twins had always possessed the ability to see the good within anyone. And within Draco they had decided that without the influence of his evil father that he may have turned into a decent human being.

Neville stepped forward, dragging his leg from an injury and addressed the crowd of death eaters. _Brave idiot,_ George thought.

"He's still with us. In here," Neville declared as he pointed to his chest.

"And so's Fred." George felt like a knife had been stabbed directly in his heart and was being twisted to cause the maximum pain possible.

"Remus. Tonks. They didn't die in vain." With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach George doubted Neville's words, but in the blink of an eye the body lying limp in Hagrid's arms slid to the ground and began to run across the courtyard seeking the cover of the walkway surrounding it that had not been completely destroyed.

A burst of joy filled George's chest and he very nearly smiled, not understanding why the muscles in his face refused to stretch into their usual grin. Everything was going to be fine, Harry was alive and they still had a fighting chance. He turned to share this with his twin.

"Fr-", but Fred wasn't there; it felt like he had lost him all over again. It was soul crushing.

As the death eaters ascended into the air preparing to attack, from the corner of his eye George observed Draco throwing Harry his wand. He'd found the good in him. George ran for the cover provided by the castle, ducking against the doorway as a stunned Neville narrowly avoided colliding with him. With the assistance of a student George half carried, half dragged Neville into the hall as the death eaters renewed their attack and Voldemort sought out Harry in single combat.

Excited yells echoed off the Castle's battered walls as George turned and looked back out across the courtyard, dodging a curse in the process. It was a reflexive action, an instinct to survive that ignored his wish to die. It would be so easy to let a stray curse hit him, so easy it was almost laughable, but George's instincts were in control. A stream of people were running towards the castle; the reinforcements had arrivied. The Hogsmeade residents and foreign witches and wizards were headed by a short man with flaming ginger locks; it was Charlie, the last Weasley brother had joined the battle. He had no idea what had happened...

Yaxley apparated in front of him and George began to duel him with ferocity; the gentle quality that his twin loved had not saved him he thought angrily. He flicked his wand with admirable skill, but it was only half of the magic that he would have produced had his twin still been fighting by his side. Yaxley blocked every hex that George sent at him and his frustration and anger grew. His wand felt heavy in his hands, as if it too felt the loss and knew that its twin was not fighting along beside it, but was lying broken in the pocket of George's jacket.

Lee jumped to George's side and together they took down the sneering death eater. He crumpled in a heap unconscious as all around them death eaters were falling or fleeing the scene; until only Bellatrix and a few others remained standing in the hall; she was completely surrounded but employing the power of the dark arts she was nowhere near to being defeated. George looked down at Yaxley's body, disappointed that he didn't feel the satisfaction that he had expected at seeking the vengeance he had craved. But it wasn't vengeance that he really wanted, it wouldn't bring Fred back. He felt tempted to kill Yaxley there and then, after all he'd lead the Muggle born Registration Commitee with Umbridge. He deserved to die. Lee stared at him questionally, but George fought back against the voices inside his head encoutraging him into darkness. He resisted them, where Fred hadn't, despite his pain. It would be a far greater punishment to live and to face people after what he'd done, to be locked away in Azkaban for the rest of his life. George however, knew that if it had been Rookwood on the ground in front of him that the darkness would have won; he would have shown no mercy. Had he shown mercy to Fred when he blew up the corridor?

He heard the cackling laugh of Bellatrix further up the hall and pushed past the combatants to get to his parents and Ginny. Miraculously, not a single curse hit him when he wanted to die so much; death scorned him. It had taken Fred, but would not take him too, that would be the easy path. Reaching them, he raised his wand and deflected a stray curse and at the sound of a loud crack turned to see Bellatrix's killing curse narrowly missing his sister.

"Not my daughter you bitch!" Mrs Weasley's materbal instincts fulled her with anger as she had come so close to losing another child. She climbed up onto the table where Bellatrix was standing and the two witches began to duel, each determined to destroy the other. George watched in awful anticipation, as Bellatrix forced his Mother back several paces and he dreaded the worst, but Bellatrix's arrogance got the better of her. Mrs Weasley advanced on her and with a firm thrust of her wand Bellatrix exploded into pieces. Voldemort's most faithful and devoted follower was no more. How George wished that his twin was here to see this.

George looked around, the clamour of fighting had ceased as all of Voldemort's supporters had been overwhelmed. Sunshine penetrated the glassless windows of the hall, partially illuminating the grey scene. The scene of their victory.

The crackle of energy could be heard from outside and once more the defenders of Hogwarts poured out of the castle, just in time to witness Voldemort dissapating into the air. The tiny pieces of tissue and bone were carried up into the air and away. George knew exactly what Fred would have said. "And the weather forecast for today folks will include some light rain interspersed with some remnants of Voldemort. So do make sure you wash that creep off you." The thought brought a weak smile to his face. It was over; it hadn't all been for nothing. Everything that the Order had fought for had been achieved; the Wizarding world was safe but at such a sacrifice that for George the victory tasted bitter. He was glad that it was finally finished, but joy had no place in his heart as cheers began to fill the early morning sunshine. The sun had risen, Voldemort was gone, but for George the sun would never rise again.

He almost thought that he could hear the sounds of Fred's beautiful, bubbling laugh being carried along on the breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: As I've been trying to weave my story with canon it was unavoidable that some lines/ events from the books and movies would have to be reproduced for everything to make sense. Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Harry Potter or any related chatracters. Thank you for reading everyone and another big thank you to everyone who has left reviews so far.


	24. Deep Mourning

The cheers grew in volume as the darkness was swept away and the second wizarding war was suddenly over. But George was only too well aware that the darkness had taken his twin with it, as he watched those who had fought in the battle clapping Harry on the back and hugging him.

Fifty people had died fighting Voldemort. The fallen fifty as they were already being called barely moments after the battle had ended, and his twin was one of their number. His Freddie was dead. No matter how many times he told himself that he still expected Fred to be celebrating with him; but for George there was no celebration, only the grief that was still as painful if not more so, than when he had first discovered Fred's body amongst the rubble. For the moment his eyes had no more tears to shed and anyway he didn't want to spoil the celebratory mood that was now filling the castle; even the other people who had suffered losses were smiling with a relief that was tinged with sadness, but George couldn't smile. Everyone would tell him that Fred would want him to celebrate and if he could be here they'd joke that he'd be setting off an array of fireworks. But George knew that the quieter, more worried person that his twin had become over the last few months would simply be relieved that they'd all pulled through and that he didn't have to worry about losing George so much anymore. But he was gone and so George could not feel relieved; he could only feel sensations of dread at what was to come next.

The Weasley's, Harry and Hermione were all grouped together; George didn't even know how he'd come to be standing next to Percy, his mind was not on the real world, but on the person who was now just a memory. Charlie approached them beaming and rubbing a streak of grime from his forehead.

"Well it looks like I got here just in time, wouldn't have got a share of the glory otherwise," he smiled. His smile quickly vanished at the sad, drawn looks on each of their faces. As his eyes skimmed over to George he felt his spirits plummet, as he stared at the pain etched on his younger brother's face.

"Fred, where's George?" The whole family flinched as he addressed George with the dreaded name. "Oops sorry, could never get you two the right way round, not even with the ear difference. George, where's Fred?" His voice was barely a whisper, as he tried to push away the answer that he was desperately seeking to avoid. A bitter smile that wasn't really a smile, but more of a grimace momentarily loosened George's locked jaw. How he wished that he could airly reply that his twin had just popped to the loo, that of course he wasn't one of the bodies in that chamber next to the hall. He even nearly wished that it was Fred being addressed by Charlie, but he wouldn't want his twin to be feeling what he was feeling now; wishing himself dead in Fred's place would not improve the situation. They'd still be separated.

"He's gone Charlie. Fred's dead." Mr Weasley embraced his stocky, second son whose knees almost gave way under him and he clutched at his Father.

"No...We're the Weasley's, never say die you know. He can't be..." He pushed past Mr Weasley and seized George around the waist, sobbing profusely against his chest.

"God, I'm sorry. I should have been here sooner." There was not one member of the family who did not blame themselves in some way for what had happened.

"Your twin. Your fucking twin," he sobbed. "Why?" George could not answer and the others wondered whether he would ever speak again, but he hugged Charlie back, glad for the comfort of another warm body even though it would never ever be his twin again who was hugging him.

Harry had accepted a tight hug from Mrs Weasley, but he hadn't managed to convey his sympathies for her loss. Now in a voice full of guilt he addressed Mr and Mrs Weasley.

"I'm so, so sorry about Fred," he said quietly, tears sparkling in his eyes. "I can't imagine what it must feel like to lose a child. If I could have died in his place-"

"Then we would still feel like we had lost one of our sons," Mr Weasley smiled grimly at him. "We all knew that the chance of one us being killed was high. It wasn't your fault Harry." A nasty voice inside of George told him that perhaps if Harry had handed himself in sooner that Fred would still be alive; he tried to ignore it but the truth of its words was difficult to forget.

"I'm sorry Ron," Harry turned to his best friend who had his arm wrapped tightly around Hermione's waist. "I'm sorry that I didn't comfort you on the stairs-"

"Mate, you were about to go and meet what you thought would be you death. It's fine." Ron let go of Hermione and squeezed Harry tightly. "Fred will be having a great time up there; you never know the Marauders might even want him to be their fourth guy."

George tried to fight back the tears that had crept up at the thought of Fred joining the Marauders and pranking without him. They were a pair, a double act and he really did feel like crying at the thought of Fred leaving him like that. But in his heart he knew that Ron was wrong; Fred would decline such an offer, he'd wait until they could be the Weasley twins again. Harry went from one family member to the other, conveying his sympathies, rubbing Percy's shoulder and holding Ginny for a long moment, but he skimmed over George completely. The lone twin couldn't help but feel invisible and unimportant now that Fred was gone. He didn't know quite what he'd expected from Harry, but at least some sort of acknowledgement of his loss. Harry felt even more guilty that he hadn't plucked up the courage to speak to George; the agony that he had briefly observed in his gentle brown eyes had numbed Harry's own heart. He had no idea what to say to the person who had lost everything during the battle, so he said nothing and hoped that George wouldn't be offended. Though by the tightening of his jaw he knew that he was hurt even more.

"Let's all go inside," Mrs Weasley spoke in the most steadfast voice that she could manage, as she tried to prevent herself from looking from one face to the other and expecting to see two that were identical and smiling back at her. In some ways Charlie's arrival had made Fred's absence more noticeable.

As they entered the hall Charlie looked around for Fred's body. "He's in there," Mr Weasley pointed at the door on the far right side of the hall.

"I want to see him," Charlie gasped as he moved forwards to where the bodies were going to be kept until they were collected for their funerals. George was so tempted to follow him that it took all of the will power and common sense that he possessed to convince himself that this would be a bad course of action to take. Seeing Fred's body again, being pulled away from him again when he refused to let go; he was in enough pain as it was and knew that he couldn't bear anymore.

Charlie emerged from the chamber, his face ashen and tears coating his cheeks. He looked across at George with pity, seeing his little brother's physical dead body had confirmed that Fred really was gone. It was now a solid fact that could not be ignored. He wished that he'd not spent so much time away from his family in Romania, all those opportunities that he'd wasted to spend time with Fred.

With an empty heart and a dead soul, George sat on one of the long wooden benches next to his Mother who had her arms around Ginny. Percy was talking animatedly with their Father and Bill and Fleur were huddled together further along with Charlie. George had nobody to talk to; the rest of his life was going to be so lonely he thought. _So this is loneliness._ He'd never been truly lonely before, apart from perhaps when Fred and he had fell out so many months ago.

Groups of students were chattering together in small groups, cradling cups of tea in their battle worn hands. George's cup sat untouched in front of him, Fred would never eat something again. Every little thing that he did, every motion of life increased the divide between them and so he sat still. At the sight and sounds of so much rejoicing, George tried to stretch a smile onto his sad features as he thought of all the precious, happy memories that he had with Fred, but it was no good. The smile was a wince, as he stared emptily across the room with half closed eyes. Thinking of Fred hurt too much to make him smile; the memories only served to remind him that no more such memories would be made.

Always usually the quieter twin, George now felt completely out of place with the people sitting around him, even though they were his family. He and Fred had always been a solid unit in the dynamics of the family and he felt like he had no place within that group of Weasley's by himself. They had always been the Weasley Twins, FrednGeorge and they hadn't hated that like the type of twins who firmly established themselves as the polar opposites of one another: they had embraced it. That was how they fitted in to their large family, together was how they crafted their niche and found their place, how they stood out and attracted attention. Now George felt like he didn't have a place at all.

Harry managed to extract himself from the adoring crowd wanting to congratulate him to seek a few quiet moments with Ron and Hermione on the main bridge. He needed time to compose himself before gathering with the Weasley's again, before having to look at the deadness in George's eyes anew.

George felt nausea wash over him and knew that he should try to eat something, but his stomach convulsed at the mere suggestion of food. Ill health had plagued him since the injury and now Fred was not there to comfort him, to stroke his forehead when the pain in his temple became too much. He was suffering alone in more than one way.

The golden trio rejoined the group, choosing to sit next to Ginny. George felt more alone than before as the whole group was engaged in a conversation that he wasn't part of. He turned to his left, a single tear slipped down his cheek at the sight of the empty space. There was no Fred there to talk to when everyone else was too busy to notice them and if they did, no Fred to make them all laugh with what they liked to call twinspeak; nobody would ever finish his sentences again and he'd never be able to finish Fred's.

"Harry, Hermione you are more than welcome to come home with us," Mrs Weasley offered.

"I'd love to, thank you," Harry said quietly.

"Thank you Mrs Weasley. I've got nowhere to go until I find my parents," Hermione replied sadly.

"You'll always be welcome at the Burrow," Mrs Weasley affirmed.

"Molly, I'm going to go and speak to Minerva. You know... and make arrangements about collecting the body before the funeral," Mr Weasley said as he got up from the bench and made his way over to where Professor McGonagall was engaged in a deep discussion with Kingsley.

Tears were now pouring down George's face at his father's words. The body? He was Fred, not just a piece of flesh he thought miserably. He struggled to fight back new sobs as his thoughts now inevitably turned to the funeral. It was all happening so fast, Fred would be left in the earth to rot; George knew he wouldn't be able to bear the sight of him being lowered into the ground. _No, Freddie please come back!_

For several minutes nobody even noticed that he was silently crying, looking at George was so painful. He looked too much like Fred. Eventually Mrs Weasley risked a glance to check how he was doing and internally cursed herself for not keeping a closer eye on him.

"Oh George sweetheart. Don't cry. Fred wouldn't want this." All heads swiveled towards him and George felt embarrassed that he couldn't keep himself together. Felt bad that through his tears he was making everyone feel worse; but it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help them and they fell faster down his cheeks.

Mr Weasley returned with a small piece of parchment which he tucked into his pocket. "Minerva has contacted an undertaker that we can take Fred to just before the funeral." He noticed where everyone was looking and leaned across to rub George's shoulder, not trusting himself with words in case he uttered something as harsh as he'd said when he'd been forced to pull his distraught son away from his twin's body. George flinched at the mention of an undertaker and dwelt on exactly what such a person did. Would he strip Fred and wash his body, rub him with preservatives or even cut him open? It all seemed undignified to George, but he knew that he had no power to stop anything that was happening. He didn't want anyone to look at Fred's body like that, his twin would hate it. The thought of what was going to happen to his beloved Freddie made him feel sick and his heart thudded at such a rate that he seemed close to having a heart attack.

Angelina and Lee approached George and both hugged him. "We're going to head off now mate, my Mum will want to know I'm alright. We're all here if you need us," Lee said in an attempt at a cheerful tone. George looked at him gratefully and nodded; even though he knew that he wouldn't really be alone he still couldn't shake that sensation off. Fred had been his one and only confidant.

"Let's get going shall we," Mrs Weasley suggested. "We're all exhausted." Her voice was trembling however as they had reached the point she and George had been dreading.

They were going home without Fred.

George felt yet another wave of panic flood him, it felt like Fred was a million miles away even though he was only in the next room. How would it feel when they were all the way down in Devon and his twin still in Scotland?

The benches scraped back and everybody rose to their feet. They were one of the last groups to leave and the school was nearly empty, lessons not being able to continue until the castle had been rebuilt. Filch was still sweeping away at the debris with his broom, stubbornly persisting in a task that was utterly pointless. If Fred was here, George knew that they would have been heartily amused by the spectacle. They walked out of the hall in file, George paused at the doors and looked back at the other door. The door that lead to Fred and so many others; he wanted to run back but forced his feet forwards, trying to focus on the simple motion of putting one foot in front of the other rather than the person he was leaving behind. Why couldn't they take Fred with them now?

He stepped into the entrance hall behind the rest of the family to see Harry, Ron and Hermione talking to Dean and Seamus who were also yet to leave. Seamus paused in his conversation and caught George's eye. "I'm sorry mate, but at least Fred went out with a bang just like he would have wanted for a guy that loved fireworks so much," he joked, expecting George to find it funny. George knew that Seamus didn't mean to be insensitive, he probably thought that jokes would cheer him up, but what was the point of them? How could a stupid joke comfort him? He did grimace though at the horrible irony of Fred's death, Fred had loved to make explosions. He liked the noise. How could he have known that one day an explosion would be fatal to him?

Seamus instantly realised that he'd said the wrong thing by the look on George's face and he stared back at him apologetically. George noted that everyone was looking at him like he was a bomb that was about to detonate and indeed he was, having been forced to pent up so much of his grief .

The trio bid goodbye to their two classmates and everyone paired up to begin the walk to the boundary where they could apparate home. Mr and Mrs Weasley led, silent but with their arms around each other in quiet comfort. Bill and Fleur followed also with their arms wrapped securely around each other. Next were Percy and Charlie talking earnestly as they walked down the Castle's steps; it had been a while since they'd seen one another. Ron and Hermione were close behind them, holding hands shyly, both not quite believing that they were finally together. Ginny and Harry, another couple filled George with regret that he and Fred could never hold hands like they were doing. _Why didn't I tell him?_

He looked around for someone to walk with, but there was nobody else. He was the odd one out and so he was forced to walk behind alone whilst everybody else had a companion. This made Fred's absence even more glaring as George couldn't help turning his head and expecting to see the person who had constantly walked by his side wherever they went. Instead of his footsteps in time with his there was silence. Instead of feeling his shoulder gently shunting into him as they walked with barely a gap between them, there was only the feel of the cold breeze.

They came to the point in the drive where Hogwarts would disappear from view; George paused and turned, looking up at the castle which had changed drastically in appearance over the course of a single night. Was it really only twelve hours ago that they'd been waiting on edge for the call to come? In that ruined building was his twin, the twin that George was leaving behind. Guilt coursed through him and grief tore more holes in his battered heart. His eyes burned with unshed tears as he forced them away from his last sight of the castle. The next and last time he would ever see his twin would be at his funeral. George breathed deeply, summoning up the strength to walk away like his twin had managed to do when Kingsley had asked them to defend the passages. But this was different, it felt like he was walking away from Fred forever and the feeling hurt. Each step was agony, he wanted to turn around so much and go back to Fred, but he knew that it wouldn't be allowed. Everybody would think him insane if he wanted to stay with a corpse.

He'd fallen behind the rest of the group but with his long stride he quickly caught sight of them again; it hurt slightly to see that nobody had noticed that he'd stopped. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind Ginny turned around and stared at him guiltily.

"Oh, God George I'm sorry." She let go of Harry and held out her hand, George took it and she drew him into step beside her and Harry. At her words the others looked back and their guilty expressions matched Ginny's as they realised that nobody had bothered to check that the heartbroken twin had somebody else to walk with. George stared at the ground as they picked up their pace again; his earlier fears that his place within the family now that he was no longer a Weasley twin was yet to be decided appeared confirmed.

The tall black iron gates that marked the boundary of the castle loomed into view; the stone gargoyles on each supporting column giving them a menacing look. The mourning family passed through them; Ginny was squeezing his hand comfortingly and George felt that this gave him the strength he needed to leave the Castle's precincts. The feeling of security provided by the feel of another human hand disappeared the instant that Ginny let go as the family paused beyond the gates to disapparate. This was it, George thought as he took deep breaths to calm himself. He was leaving Fred behind.

"Ready everyone?" Mr Weasley nodded at them all and they suddenly disappeared from view leaving George standing alone in the shadow of the huge gates; his legs had completely numbed and refused to allow him to turn on the spot. There was a loud crack and Percy had apparated back and was walking quickly to his brother's side.

"You can do this George, I'll help you," he urged him gently. Seeing that George was unable to move, he took hold of his arm lightly and turned them on the spot. George screwed his eyes shut tightly, but tears still managed to escape from between his eyelashes and traverse his face. The lurching sensation that accompanied apparition had never made the twins feel queasy before, but George felt as if his empty stomach was going to end up in the back of his throat. Within a few seconds it was over and he was back on solid ground; eyes still tightly closed he could feel grass now rather than the course gravel of the Castle's drive. He tried to ignore what all his other senses were also telling him, that he had left Fred, had returned home without him.

Slowly he forced his eyelids open and took in the sight of the Burrow with its many floors sticking out at odd angles and suddenly seeing home made his twin's death seem completely irrefutable. Its nightmare like quality was gone and he was left with the cruel reality. Sobs rose in his chest and escaped from his throat without restraint. He began to move quickly towards the house, speeding up until he was nearly running. He needed to be alone, alone with his grief.

The others watched him go in silence, understanding completely that George needed to deal with this in his own way.

"I can't even begin to understand what he's going through," Mrs Weasley gasped in between her own sobs.

"None of us can," Mr Weasley murmured as he pulled her close to his chest. "They were so close, he just needs time. We both know that he'll never get over it, but eventually he'll be able to move on and be as happy as he can be without Fred."

"But what if he never does," Mrs Weasley whispered; her fearful eyes searched her husband's for some sign of reassurance but Mr Weasley knew that it was far more likely that George would never move on. It all sounded so cliche, what was expected of him, what happened during the usual stages of grieving; but they knew that the bond between their twins had not been a typical one. Rather they both feared that George was going to commit suicide, that he wouldn't be able to face a life without Fred.

"You think he's going to kill himself don't you," Ginny asserted, staring at her parents with mournful eyes. "At least we'd know they'd both be happy if he did. I don't know how I ever could have thought that he was going to be okay, each other was the reason they seemed so happy all the time. Nothing else."

"It's too soon to tell," Mr Weasley began. "Fred would want George to get on with his life."

"How can any of us pretend to know what Fred would have wanted?" Ginny demanded.

"Gin, I know you're upset," Bill tried to sooth her. "But don't be so pessimistic, George is probably the strongest one amongst us. If he managed to survive that curse, he can survive this."

"That was completely different," Ginny had begun to cry now and Harry tried to wrap his arms around her, but she brushed him off. "Emotional pain is far worse. Remember the look on Fred's face when he saw George lying on the sofa... and now it's George...and Fred's...he's...Oh why them?" Ginny broke down and Mrs Weasley immediately broke away from Arthur and held her daughter in her arms. Percy was standing rigid, wondering why it had to be the twins who were hurt and not him; whilst Harry was growing more and more frustrated that he was powerless to do anything to lessen their grief. His own grief at the loss of Fred had been numbed by the prospect that he himself was about to die, but now it hit him full force and he realised just what a great friend the twins had always been to him and now the twins were gone as he had known them forever. Without them smiling the world seemed darker somehow.

"Let's just all go inside and get some sleep. It'll make us all feel a bit better."

George had ascended the stairs to the second floor and had made it to their old room. He had paused for a long time in front of that door, the door that was slightly battered from years of service and covered with posters and the sign 'Gred and Forge, keep out'. He ran his fingers over the crudely joined letters, they had painted that when they were six; the first time that their names had got swapped around by their Mother and since then the nicknames had stuck between them. They'd had so many affectionate terms for each other he thought. _He'll never call me Georgie again._

He pushed their door ajar and slipped inside the gap, pushing it closed with his foot and leaning his back against it. There were so many memories in this room, so many memories in the bedroom at their flat too. The sight of the two twin beds, the posters on the walls and the pile of belongings delivered from Aunt Muriel's on the floor was at once both consoling and devastating.

"Silencio," George slid down to the floor and consumed himself in his sobs and screamed himself hoarse trying to eject the pain through his tears, but it only became more painful. For hours he wept, but all his family heard from the room was silence. Eventually from sheer exhaustion George managed to climb into Fred's bed and fall asleep, bunching the duvet up as if it were his twin that he was holding.

* * *

In his state of emotionally charged exhaustion George slept for a whole twenty four hours and did not awake until the morning of the third of May. Fred had been dead for over 32 hours.

As he groaned awake, he rubbed at his eyes and wondered why they were so puffy. Why had he been crying? He rolled over and looked across at Fred's bed, it was empty and he guessed that his twin must have got up to use the bathroom, but then he looked around him more closely and was extremely confused to see that he was at the Burrow. He and Fred should be in Aunt Muriel's attic room in that large double bed. His thoughts turned to something so horrible that it he thought that it must be a nightmare; there'd been a battle and Fred had died. George shivered, feeling thankful that it was all just a dream and that Fred was okay. Why hadn't his twin come back from the bathroom? Was he constipated or something? A smile accompanied this thought; George wished that Fred would hurry back; he needed his embrace after what he'd seen last night, and he struggled not to cry at the memory of it. But at least it hadn't been real...

It was real. Fred was dead.

It wasn't a dream and Fred had not gone to the bathroom. His twin was dead and it felt like he was losing him all over again. His body had simply shut off the memory of the event in self defence and had made it to appear like nothing more than a nightmare; but the reality of it came back to him all at once and he wasn't smiling anymore. Tears slipped down his cheeks, but he couldn't pretend that it was a nightmare, the comforting lie could not be believed. He slipped from underneath the duvet and retrieved his jacket from where he'd dumped it on the floor and slipped a shaking hand inside the pocket. He pulled back his hand clutching Fred's tiny pendant and with his other hand touched the one that was still nestled against his chest. With gulping sobs he repaired the broken chain and slipped it around his neck, so that the tiny G lay next to the F against his cold skin. Here they could still be together.

The rucksack of clothing on the floor at the foot of Fred's bed attracted his attention; he reached into it and withdrew an armful of material that felt soft and warm to the touch. It was a jumper which George unfolded carefully as he sat on the floor cross legged and held it up to look at. Across the front was a large yellow F, standing out brightly from the dark green. At the sight of it, George bent over as he was convulsed with more painful sobs. His heart thudded, his head spun; at that moment he didn't know how he could be feeling any worse. Surely there must be a limit to the pain that a person can take? He rubbed the material between his fingers, trying to take some comfort from its softness. He held it against his cheek and sniffed the fabric, realising that his twins' scent still lingered there as he'd worn it quite recently. George inhaled deeply, drawing some comfort from Fred's deep, warm smell. But how long would the smell last? How could he preserve the scent? He crawled back under the duvet still holding the jumper close to his face and now and again touching the pendants that were positioned over his heart. Fred was still with him, he tried to tell himself as Fred's jumper quickly became very wet from the waterfall of tears that fell like rain droplets from George's face. His vision became so blurred by them that he could barely make out the shape of the F on the jumper and he felt his head pound painfully. He felt weak and tired and on the brink of a complete emotional breakdown.

* * *

The jumper's all wet now; I've cried so much on it; now I can hardly smell Fred, just the saltiness of my tears. Why? Why him? We were supposed to be together forever, we're twins, one of us can't stay behind without the other. How can I go on without him? The answer is simple; I can't.

If I thought that I felt like shit during those weeks of being ill in the autumn, what the hell do I fell like now? How can I feel this agony and still live? Oh God, the funeral will happen in a few days time. I can't...I just can't watch him being lowered into the ground. Oh Freddie! Come back please! Why did you leave me? I know you couldn't help it, but why?

I love you so much; I'm a fucking idiot for not telling you how I felt. You might have felt the same, it would certainly explain your sometimes odd behavior over the last few months. Even though of course you were always quite an odd person I suppose. And great, now I'm talking to you like you're somehow still here. They're gonna shut me up in a bloody madhouse, I know they will. Mum, Dad, Ginny; everybody was looking at me like I've gone nuts. But what did they expect? I guess they didn't really get quite how close we are, (I will not use that other verb. I won't). We never really hugged much in front of people, we kept that to ourselves, people just saw the banter I guess, so how can they possibly understand what I am going through?

I want to die Fred, I'm not going to lie. I want to join you. I can't live a whole life without you; wizards can live until they're a hundred and fifty. 130 years of not seeing you? I can't do that, I can't Freddie. I can't run the shop without you; I can't ever go back there. I'm going to do it now. I'm going to cut my wrists and slice my throat open. It will be quick I promise, I won't be in any pain so don't worry about that Freddie. I'll be with you soon, you won't have to wait up there lonely like how I'm so lonely without you down here. I'm coming to you. Please don't be cross, I don't think you will; I imagine that if our positions were reversed that you'd want to do the same. We never talked about what we'd do if one us... you know, we should have done because then I'd know for definite that you'd be okay with this. But I think you will; you wouldn't want me to be completely miserable for the rest of my pathetic joke of a life. The others would try and tell me that you'd want me to live for you and all that load of crap. But you wouldn't tell me to do any of that, you'd want whatever was best for me and this is the best thing to do for me Freddie. But it's not the best for everyone is it?

Oh God. I know what it would do to the rest of our family. They'd be devastated to lose both of us, especially if I took my own life. But surely they wouldn't mind too much, because they'd know that I'd be happy; that we'd both be happy. Surely that's what our family would want for us? But I know that they don't understand that I need to die too. It's a simple fact really, but to them killing myself would be something horrific. They won't be able to understand that it would be wonderful.

I can't do it Fred. I just can't. I've been holding my wand to be wrist for half an hour now, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I keep seeing the face of whoever finds my body and I can't do that to them. This means that I've got no choice but to live however many years I have before accident or old age brings me to you...It's not fair...I can't be selfish...I can't come to you...They'd think badly of me...I've got to stay...Why...

It's a bloody good job that I put that charm on the door...I don't imagine that they'd enjoy hearing me scream...Can you hear me Fred? Can you see me? Are you crying too, knowing that we're separated? And oh fuck, what if there's nothing there. What if you die and that's it? I never thought about it and now I know that I don't really believe in the afterlife. You're gone. I'm never ever going to see you again. Never. Never. Never. My Freddie. My Freddie's gone, you don't exist anymore. Dad was right; you're just a body now. Killing myself wouldn't bring me to you, but it would take away the pain and our bodies can lie peacefully together forever. But they won't, because I can't do it. I'm either too cowardly or too selfless to do it and I don't know which. I suppose though by existing that I can keep your memory alive. There's nothing after death so I need to make sure that you are remembered; every little detail from the way you tossed your hair out of your face when we had it long, to the sparkle of your eyes, your bubbly laugh, your I'm up to something grin, the way you held me in your arms whenever I was feeling down, oh how protective you've always been of me, your awesome sense of humor and most importantly how under all the pranks and jokes you were the most wonderful caring person...There's nothing...Oh God there's nothing...Fred I love you...Always.

* * *

The days passed awfully slowly and George spent all of them locked away in his room, only emerging to use the bathroom. He hadn't washed, hadn't even changed his clothes or dealt with the cuts and bruises that had been inflicted on his skin during the battle. Every time he had woken up he had been forced to remind himself that Fred was gone; it was torture to have to repeat the realisation over and over again. Several people had knocked on the door and tried to make him come downstairs and join the rest of the family, but George needed to be alone. He couldn't sit there calmly, needing to weep uncontrollably every half hour or so to release the emotion that built up within him every time he tried to stay dry eyed. It was best for him to grieve alone, but he couldn't help but feel guilty that he should be trying to comfort the rest of his family rather than being selfish. He realised that they probably all though him selfish, but they should appreciate that he hadn't killed himself at least. That was all he could give right now, the twins had spent their whole lives giving; he had no more to give. Everything had been taken from him and he hoped that his family understood that. Understood that he couldn't make jokes and share memories of Fred with them. If they'd thought that that was how he was going to grieve then they were sorely mistaken.

Swinging his legs off the bed he examined his reflection in the mirror. His eyes appeared to have sunken further into his skull, there were dark, puffy circles under them and the whites of his eyes had become reddened from so much crying. He had expected that it would be difficult to look in the mirror; he'd considered that his eyes would trick him into believing that he was seeing Fred rather than his own reflection. He had been quite ready to smash the mirror in agony, but the person that he was greeted with looked nothing like his twin, so it wasn't as painful as he had prepared himself for. Fred's eyes had a happy sparkle, these eyes were dead and soulless. Fred's mouth was usually always smiling. This mouth was pursed tightly. Fred's skin shone with a pearly radiance. This skin was creased and pale. Fred's cheeks had a slight chubbiness to them that his had always lacked. Now his face looked thinner than ever before; he hadn't ate in days... He was making himself ill, but he really didn't care, hoping that he'd die without having to do anything that would make him feel more guilty than he already did.

There was a knock on the door and George quickly removed the silencing charm that he'd placed over the room with a flick of his wand.

"George, sweetheart. I've brought you something to eat. Can I come in?" His Mother's voice could be heard through the keyhole.

"Yeah Mum." His voice sounded completely raw, it had been the first time that he'd spoken in days. He heard her sigh with relief; she'd been expecting him to deny her entry. She pushed the door open slowly and nearly started at the sight of George; he didn't look like George anymore as tears welled up in her eyes. She pushed the door shut and stepped forwards with the tray that she was carrying.

"I've made you some soup. It'll be easy on your stomach." She put the tray down on the chest of drawers and sat on the edge of Fred's bed, watching George staring blankly ahead of him. She reached out a hand and stroked his wet cheek, brushing some of the tears away, but as soon as she did they were replaced by new ones. She wrapped her arms around him and held him as he sobbed intensely for several minutes, stroking the ginger hair just like she had done for Fred. Despair filled her at the fact that there was nothing she could do to stop her child from hurting. Her and Arthur had seriously considered using the memory charm to take away the painful memories of his twin, but they knew that they couldn't do that. Make George forget Fred? It was too awful to contemplate for long and they'd only briefly touched on it out of desperation. They knew that George had placed a charm on the bedroom door; Mrs Weasley had sobbed in her husband's arms at the thought of George crying and screaming for his twin to come back alone.

"You've been so brave sweetheart. We're all proud of you."

"No, I haven't. I haven't joked or tried to make you all laugh."

"None of us expect anything from you, we're just grateful that you haven't...haven't-"

"Killed myself?" George lifted his face to gaze into his Mother's brown eyes, eyes that were the same hue as the twins', but he couldn't pretend that they were Fred's.

"Yes," Mrs Weasley sobbed. "We all though that you were going to."

"I won't," George sniffed. "I know that I'm just going to have to be depressed for the rest of my life."

Mrs Weasley's eyes widened and she stared back at George sorrowfully. "It will get better someday sweetheart and then you might be glad that you kept going. Think about your shop, think about the fact that Fred will always be with you." She touched his heart gently. "And then you'll be together forever and nobody will ever be able to take him from you again."

"I love him Mum. I can't ever be happy again. Every happy memory I have involves him." He drew out his wand and muttered 'expecto patronum', but nothing happened, even a weak silvery mist did not appear. George would never be able to produce a patronus charm again. Mrs Weasley burst into tears and began to rock him backwards and forwards again.

"Oh George. My poor George." George rested his head on her shoulder and they cried together.

"I meant to ask you...that watch that Fred has been wearing. Where did he get it from?"

"Me. For Christmas...I can't go to the...I just don't think I can do it Mum," he wailed.

"You will sweetheart. You need to say goodbye, it'll help, trust me. What colours do you think he'd like?" Mrs Weasley asked gently, hoping that George wouldn't completely break down by talking about the funeral.

"Yellow, orange and purple, maybe some blue as well. Nothing black." A weak smile lit up Mrs Weasley's features.

"No, I don't think he'd be impressed if everything was covered in black."

"Would you like to come downstairs and sit with us for a bit George?"

"I can't Mum." George shook his head, panicked at the thought of facing a large group of people.

"That's fine sweetheart. Whatever's best for you." She got up and walked towards the door, feeling that she should stay with him a bit longer; but it was too painful to do so. Before closing the door gently behind her she turned back to him and said quietly. "You need to let him go George."

George pulled Fred's jumper back to his face and shook his head to himself. He'd never let Fred go, ever. He'd never move on. _We're bonded, soulmates._ He tried a spoonful of the rich, creamy tomato soup but as it hit the back of his throat it made him gag and he left it sat on the tray to go cold.

* * *

Later on when once again it was dark outside, George headed downstairs to fetch a glass of water. Shortly after his Mum had left Ginny and Hermione had come to visit him; he couldn't deal with everyone all together but he was comforted by the occasional visitor. He realised that he'd completely lost track of time and had no idea what hour it was, but it was probably better that he didn't know, so that he couldn't pinpoint the exact number of days, hours, minutes and seconds since he had last seen his beloved Freddie alive and well. He headed into the kitchen and shoved a glass under the tap; the sound of quiet talking could be heard from the living room. He gulped down some of the icy cold water, it sobered him slightly from the stupor that he had sunk into but everything still felt hazy and his head spun with pain.

"George. Is that you?" Percy called from the living room and the voices immediately ceased. The lone twin decided bravely to give sitting with his family a go, if he broke down he could just leave the room; they'd appreciate him at least trying. He shuffled into the living room which was flooded with light; he'd kept the bedroom poorly lit so nobody who had been up to see him had been able to see just how awful he looked. There was a collective intake of breath and to George's surprise a small smile edged itself onto his face.

"Lucky for me that I've never thought much of my looks, Fred was vain enough for the both of us" he joked weakly to forced laughter. "Sympathy laughs eh, me and Fred never had to get any of those." Everyone stared at him in admiration, all thinking that he was incredibly brave. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking for a seat; there was an empty chair next to Percy and he moved forwards to take it, but he paused after catching sight of the fireplace from the corner of his eye. Dozens and dozens of moving photographs were lining the mantelpiece; all of them showed the twins at various ages. There they were at age 5, clutching teddy bears and grinning cheekily at the camera. Another one showed them as eleven year olds trying on their school robes for the first time; Fred was sticking his tongue out and George was making bunny ears behind Fred's head. Next to that was them during their sixth year, it was easy to identify with their shoulder length hair and devilish winks. A lump came up in the back of George's throat and all the strength that he'd summoned up vanished at the sight of all of these memories. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he prayed that he'd be able to contain himself until he got back to their room. Why had nobody warned him about all of these photos? He'd kept his and Fred's photo album carefully in the backpack, having known exactly what the sight of Fred's smiling face would do to him.

His hopes of getting upstairs without breaking down were destroyed by a very recent photo; it was the one that their Father had taken at their birthday celebration. He'd had it developed. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he picked it up and stared at photo Fred and photo George. They had their arms wrapped closely around each other; Fred's arm was slung low around George's waist, his hand resting on his hipbone and as they turned away from their cheeky grin at the camera and looked towards each other adoringly, they pressed their foreheads together. George realised that neither of them was looking at each other in what could be called a brotherly way, he was surprised that nobody seemed appalled by it, but they were all watching him sorrowfully as sobs escaped his chest and he slammed it back down on the mantelpiece. As he ran from the room he heard it slip and fall to the floor, but he kept running, trying to outrun his grief all the way up the stairs and into his room where he threw himself on Fred's bed and wept his heart out. He had forgotten the silencing charm and so his sobs echoed around the house.

Crying, Mrs Weasley picked up the frame from the floor and stoked each of the twins' faces as they grinned cheekily and again turned to smile lovingly at the other; a perfect moment frozen in time forever.

"My beautiful laughing boys, gone, they're both gone forever. Like Fabian and Gideon. And I was so hard on them, said such horrible things to them that must have upset them and I never got to tell them that I'm so proud of them both. Those kind, funny, loving, beautiful souls are gone! George is not George without his Fred. And I pushed Fred away to get to Percy. That was the last thing that I ever did to him. I pushed him away like he was nothing. What kind of Mother have I been to them, just because they were a bit different than the rest of you?" She broke down and sank to the floor, still clutching the photograph in her hands as several members of the family ran forward to comfort her.

* * *

Five, awful days after Fred's death, George received another tentative knock on the door. It had been two days since the incident with the photograph and nobody had been able to face him since then.

"Come in," he croaked.

George had not been able to get that image from their birthday out of his mind, it was so beautiful and yet so horrific. But for the first time George was able to seriously consider that his twin might have returned his feelings; this however was so painful to think about that George wasn't able to dwell on it for too long at a time. _All that time wasted..._

Harry entered, his expression grim and he closed the door behind him with a little too much force and approached George unsmiling.

"Are you going to come and sit with your family or what?" George was taken completely aback by Harry's blunt and unsympathetic tone. Unknown to him, Harry had given in to the anger and frustration that had been dogging him since the battle and George was an easy target to vent those feelings on.

"Excuse me?" George stared at him bewildered.

"You're not the only one who's upset you know. They're all hurting too."

"I know-"

"Just because you were twins doesn't mean they all don't love him too," Harry cut him off.

"Of course I know that they do. I just can't."

"Can't what George?" Harry asked coldly.

"Make jokes and pretend to be happy when I'm in so much fucking pain. I tried the other day and look what happened!"

"Fred would be ashamed of you."

"How fucking dare you. What the hell do you want from me Harry?" Tears were still trailing down George's face but he was also now shaking with anger. "Do you want me to tell you that it wasn't your fault and that Fred quite happily died for you? What the fuck do you want?"

"You're not the only one who's lost people. I've lost far more people than you have. My parents, Sirius, Dobby, Dumbledore, but I'm not acting like a selfish bastard who's making his family more upset because he can't fucking pull himself together and accept that HIS TWIN IS DEAD!

Sobs were now escaping George, as he stared horrified at Harry's outburst. "I spent every waking moment with him; you haven't lost a twin so don't try and compare your grief to mine, hero. It's not a bloody competition or is it because I'm getting some of the attention and it's not quite the glorious victory that you wanted because it cost the lives of so many people. Or perhaps I'm not worshiping your arse like the others and that's why you're doing this, not thanking you for my life. Well here's a fact Harry Potter. I don't want my fucking life. Now get the fuck out of our room."

"Your room," Harry added nastily as he banged the door shut behind him. As soon as it had closed on the sounds of George's muffled sobs, the anger and frustration inside him evaporated; the monstrous ghost of that piece of Voldemort's soul was gone and he realised what he'd just said to George with horror. But he lacked the bravery to go back and apologise, to say that he was just so frustrated and hadn't meant to take everything out on him, that he was sorry and to try and comfort George like he should have tried to do days ago like the others had done. But instead he went downstairs and tried to pretend that none of it had happened.

He met Hermione and Ron at the foot of the stairs who both looked at him enquiringly for information.

"Well, how's George?" Hermione said after Harry remained silent, staring guiltily at the floor. "As good as can be expected," he replied.

"Which is," Ron pressed him.

"Like shit," said Harry bluntly, still not meeting their eyes. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks, both were perplexed by his behavior over the past couple of days, but had decided not to ask. Harry was left to shoulder his guilt alone, knowing that there was no way that he could make up to George for what he'd said.

George was still reeling from the impact of Harry's words, he felt more guilty and selfish than ever and hoped desperately that Harry was wrong, that Fred was not ashamed of him. He curled up underneath the duvet, feeling more depressed than he had done before, but he quickly reemerged upon remembering that Ginny and Hermione had left him a copy of the Daily Prophet. He struggled to sweep away his newly bitter feelings towards Harry as he stared at a large picture of him on the front page with the caption "The Chosen One defeats the Dark Lord." In much smaller lettering was "The Fallen Fifty" and a page reference. With nervous anticipation he flicked to the indicated page, wondering what had been written about his twin. Had they mentioned that he had ran a successful joke shop with his twin brother, that he he was a brave fighter. But no, all the page contained was a list of the names. George scanned sadly down the list, until he came to the one that tore into his heart. "Frederick Gideon Weasley." That was it, no commemoration, no nothing. And they'd used the name that Fred had always hated, even though George had tried to persuade him many times that it sounded sexy. He shut the newspaper angrily and stared at the large image of Harry. He had an entire article about him, but all that Fred and the others got was their name listed! George would have felt that it was unfair before, but after Harry'd words it was biased.

He chucked the newspaper into a corner and decided that he might as well unpack the rucksacks; after all the sight of Fred's clothing had been more comforting than devastating and with the stuff that was the same he couldn't tell whose was whose anyway. With a flick of his wand, shirts, jeans and socks began to zoom out of the bag and position themselves neatly in the wardrobe or chest of drawers. He sure as hell was not going to be chucking any of Fred's things out like they didn't matter. The other objects landed on the bed and George' eye was caught by the snow globe that Fred had made for him at Christmas. _It was supposed to be just for you. You know something special._

Fred's voice was constantly in his head, as he relived all their most recent significant conversations and even the little things, the goodnights, the good mornings, the what would you like for breakfasts. All of it. With shaking fingers he raised the snow globe so that he was holding it level with his face. He knew that he should not look into those mesmerizing depths, that what he saw would cause him the most unbelievable pain, but he was drawn to it nonetheless. It was all he had of his dream now as he watched a miniature version of Fred making love to him. He pressed his nose against the glass as if trying to get closer. He wished that he could enter the snow globe and be that miniature George with his head thrown back in pure pleasure, but instead he was this George. A grieving, miserable mess. The snow globe was taunting him, showing him what he could never now have and he hated it. He threw it hard against the wall where it smashed into pieces. George instantly regretted what he had done, he'd destroyed Fred's gift. His brother was gone and he was destroying what precious little he had left of him. Gathering up the pieces, he ended up cutting himself on the small glass fragments.

"Reparo," he muttered. "Reparo," he said again louder this time, but nothing happened. Weeping, he scooped up the pieces and wrapped them in a woolen hat with the base. _What did I do?_ He retrieved Fred's jumper from the bed again and snuggled his cheek against it, sobbing his heart out, wanting to simply sob his life away, but the life clung on even though George was beginning to waste away. It would not let go even though his will to live had vanished, but no matter how strong his desire to die was George could not bring himself to be the selfish person that Harry had described. He felt trapped, devoid of hope and alone, so alone. Deep mourning had stolen over the Burrow, once such a happy home and George was reminded of when they'd been attacked by Dementors. He was being sucked dry, sucked until there was nothing left.

When would the fear be satisfied?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for all the kudos and the lovely comments that I've had. This chapter ended up rather huge, but I didn't want to split it into two as everything flowed together. You should all like the next chapter if you know what I mean! ;)


	25. At the Crossroads

_I love you George. I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you!_

Fred slipped away into the darkness, silently professing his love for George to the last.

* * *

As the darkness took him, Fred was suddenly aware that the pain was gone as quickly as it had torn through his body with the explosion that had separated him from George. It felt as if he was floating, but he couldn't see a thing, only feel the sensation that he was being lifted away from his wreck of a body. He had no idea what was happening, having expected to fall into unconsciousness. _Am I dead?_ His world was silent; there were no more cries, no more sounds of crumbling mortar as it was blasted from the castle's walls, no nothing apart from the blackness. Fred tried to reach for something, for what he did not know, but he seemed to have no limbs to command. He tried to scream for help but no sound came from him; in fact he couldn't feel any part of his body at all and he knew that he was dead, just a spirit. He called his twin's name in his mind, but he knew that George would not be able to hear him. He knew that he had left life behind for ever, so was this it? Was he going to be trapped in this lonely darkness for all time? Fred wished that he had just become unconscious, for there to be peaceful nothingness; to float like this for all eternity without his twin, without any light at all would be utter torture.

Was the fear not satisfied with death?

It seemed to Fred in that moment of panic and complete helplessness that he would never see George again, that he was separated from him forever. The lonely spirit would have cried if it had eyes from which to weep, but nevertheless Fred had never felt such pain before. As he continued to drift through the abyss, memories of his twin passed through his consciousness and he felt his essence clench with both happiness and pain to see the beloved face of his Georgie. The pain quickly dominated the happiness that accompanied these memories at the thought of his twin finding his battered body; he knew that George would be in agony just like he was. Echoes of anguished cries filled him and Fred couldn't tell whether they were his imagination or a sound conveyed from the world that he had left behind. But he knew that it was George he heard and the pain grew in intensity; this pain was far worse than the force of any explosion. Fred could not bear his twin being in pain.

He tried to reach out to him and felt the pull of a bond that he had not been able to fully perceive whilst he had possessed a body. But now that he was free of the flesh and reduced down to his soul he was able to feel his connection to George consume him. The connection was still intact; Fred had experienced the most horrific pull at his soul as death had attempted to severe the tie, but it remained strong and hummed with energy.

Fred realised that he could still feel his twin, could sense his emotions like he had never done before. He felt George's anguish; his anger at the death eaters; his hopelessness and his despair. George was mourning. He felt his desire to die and his all consuming love for him. The connection that Fred had discovered comforted him, as he realised that he would not be alone in the darkness forever, that nothing could take him away from George and as he realised this, light began to appear around the edges of the blackness and he heard George's voice clearing reverberating through his entire being.

"Can you hear me Fred? Can you see me? Are you crying too, knowing that we're separated?"

_Yes George I can hear you, but you can't hear me. Of course I am, I can't bear this but we're still connected. Can you feel it George?_

My Freddie. My Freddie's gone, you don't exist anymore. Dad was right; you're just a body now.

_I'm not George, I'm still here. I just don't know where. I don't know where I am! How can you find me?_

Fred I love you...Always.

_I can feel that love, it's so strong. Can you feel mine for you Georgie? I love you so much!_

George's voice faded away again and Fred knew that he had stopped addressing him and indeed he felt him giving into his grief. Fred grieved too, imagining George sitting alone in their old room at the Burrow with no idea what would happen to his twin. Fred had no idea how long he had been drifting like this, but the light was steadily getting brighter. It filled him; it was so white and piercing so that the light filled his very soul and banished the darkness. With the coming of the light and the comfort of the bond that not even death could break, the spirit didn't feel so lonely anymore.

Slowly, a scene materialised in front of him and Fred looked down to the sight of his booted feet standing on what was clearly pavement. He flexed his fingers and held them up to his eyes; his soul had kept its form after all. He was clad in his jeans and green roll necked top and was much bemused to see that his jacket had disappeared. Almost subconsciously he placed a hand to his neck and was aghast to find that his G pedant was gone, lost in some unknown part of the castle and he was saddened to think that he wouldn't have that small piece of his twin to light the lonely years of existence ahead of him until George passed on too. Now that the darkness had gone the afterlife didn't seem as terrifying, especially as the scene in front of him had taken the shape of Diagon alley; except that it looked much brighter than the collection of shuttered, run down shops that he remembered from the last time he and George had been there, before the death eaters had forced them into hiding.

And there it was; as he took a few paces up the street their shop came into view, but it looked completely different to how Fred remembered it. The light was so bright that it overwhelmed the orange of their shopfront and made everything appear to be bathed in white. With a cautious step he approached the entrance and raised his hand to push the door open. His skin also appeared to be glowing with that strange white light, but despite its intensity Fred wasn't blinded by it. Around the edges of the alley it was brighter still, so that he couldn't make out what lay beyond the illuminated shopfronts. He wondered what this place was and how it had come to exist. That it wasn't the real Diagon alley was obvious, so was it his imagination projecting onto the scene but with a heavenly touch? The thought of heaven made Fred want to snort with derision, heaven would be hell and hell would be something even worse without George to join him on his journey into the unknown; but the bond that he still felt with George drew him forwards to push the door open. He felt as if his twin was still with him and this gave him the courage to step over the threshold of the place that was both their shop and wasn't their shop.

The bell that usually alerted them to the presence of customers rang; the noise made Fred jump as it was the first sound that he had heard since he'd started drifting around in the darkness and his ears felt unusually sensitive.

"Hello?" He called tentatively as he looked past the displays near the door towards the counter. Even here the strange white light penetrated the interior of the shop overpowering what should have been bright stands of skiving snackboxes in front of him. Apart from the absence of colour their shop looked just as it had done before the death eaters attacked but in reality Fred knew that on earth it was likely to be a wreck; he couldn't imagine that the death eaters would not have enjoyed gutting the place.

"George?" He didn't know why he was calling his twin's name. Was he really expecting George to jump out from behind a shelf and the colours to seep back in and this all just turn into one big nightmare? No, George was in the realm of the living, he wasn't here; the shop was empty. He turned to leave in disappointment, he couldn't stay here; the memories were too bitter sweet.

"Good evening Mr Weasley." Fred started and turned to see Professor Dumbledore walking down the staircase from the first floor gallery; hands neatly folded he was observing Fred with studied interest. His long silver and pale blue robes brushed along the stairs as he walked and Fred stared at him confused as Dumbledore crossed over to meet him.

"Where am I?" He asked in a voice that was higher than normal.

"Just what I was going to ask you Fred, but I can see now that this must be your shop and very impressive it is too," Dumbledore smiled at him with twinkling eyes.

"Our shop," Fred corrected him quickly. "So I take it I'm dead and you're here to take me on or whatever sir," he said, feeling his eyes brimming with tears at the thought of leaving George behind. How he hoped that his twin knew that he would never have left him if he'd had the choice and he mentally kicked himself for not summoning up the courage to reveal his feelings. _Why didn't I tell him? This is George. He would never have rejected me, he'd have tried to understand, helped me. He deserved to know the truth and now I've got to wait an entire lifetime to see him again; that is unless he kills himself._ Much as he hated the image of George placing his wand to his temple, Fred wanted to see him again so much, but he panicked that George might think that Fred would want him to live. But Fred just wanted his twin to be happy and if he couldn't be happy without him than he was more than open to George coming to him; he wouldn't be angry in the slightest. However, a thought nudged at him and he knew that George was so selfless that he would probably let himself suffer so as not to hurt their family even more through the loss of both of them.

"Well that really depends on what you choose Fred," Dumbledore smiled stepping closer and examining a display of fainting fancies.

Fred just stared at him even more bemused than he had been before. Choose? But he was dead; what was the old guy babbling about? Dumbledore noticed his expression and smiled wider.

"You have come to a crossroad of sorts Mr Weasley. You can return to the twin who sorely misses you, or shall we say go on." He folded his hands again and patiently waited for Fred to absorb this unprecedented information. His heart fluttered as he began to comprehend what Dumbledore was talking about and joy surged through him, but he was still in a state of shock. How could he go back to George when he was dead?

"I'm dead," Fred said pointing out the obvious. Dumbledore let out a hearty chuckle and smiled at him kindly.

"Walk with me Mr Weasley, we have much to discuss," Dumbledore said; holding the door open and allowing Fred to step out back onto the alley.

"Fred, sir. I've never got used to being called 'Mr Weasley'," he said attempting a grin. "I really don't understand, there was an explosion in the corridor. There can't be any doubt that I'm dead; my body's a mess," he stated with confidence.

"You are not truly 'dead' yet Fred, you have entered a state of limbo shall we say. But you are quite right your body was very badly damaged and has had to spend some time healing itself; hence why you've had to wait for your return. And I sense that some damage cannot be undone until you are back in your body, so a word of warning but it might be quite painful when you intially wake up."

"Wake up? So, I'm asleep then. Is this all just happening in my head?"

"Not quite Fred; this is quite different to Harry. Your soul has left your body but another soul, the soul of one you love dearly is stopping you from going any further without your decision being taken into account." Dumbledore paused and turned to regard Fred with that studied interest again; his penetrating gaze gave Fred the uncanny sensation that he was a rather interesting specimen of some sort.

"Wait what, Harry was dead too? I'm afraid that I still really have no idea what's going on Professor. Is everybody who died in the battle being given this choice?" Fred's brown eyes were a pool of confusion, but Dumbledore clearly saw hope illuminated in them; hope that perhaps this wasn't the end after all.

"No, unfortuanately, this path is only availiable to you and you alone. You and your twin have always been close yes?"

"Extremely, we do everything together, we finish each other's sentence, know each other's thoughts; he just understands me completely. He's the other half of me." Fred wasn't entirely sure why he was telling Professor Dumbledore all of these things; he hadn't known him on a personal level very well but he guessed more than most of the other students did, as he and George had found themselves in his office on several occasions after a spout of mischief making.

"Closer than normal twins would you say?" Dumbledore's eyes were now boring into Fred so keenly that Fred had to look away from his intense stare.

"I think so," he replied quietly. "I can't think how any other twins could be closer than us; most seem to want to forge some identity that's separate from their twin, but not us."

"You must think me very nosy Fred and you wouldn't be wrong. I am without a shadow of a doubt, a very nosy old man. The two of you aroused all my curiosity the moment that you arrived at Hogwarts. The reason that you have the choice of going back Fred is that you and George share a magical connection . An extremely close bond, you are not just twins in the flesh, but your souls are tied together. Twin souls. You simply cannot function without the other. I would say that you are each other's greatest strength, but also greatest weakness; you are both capable of doing dark things in protection of the other. You are the most particularly susceptible to such action Fred."

Fred nodded. The shade of darkness in him, the violence that he sometimes felt, his use of an unforgivable curse; Fred knew where George was concerned right and wrong wouldn't matter to him any more. If it had been George who had died, Fred knew that he would not have stopped until every death eater was dead.

"Your soul bond protects you, it means that you cannot die while he still lives, as long as you reach out to that bond that is. I believe that in the Department of Mysteries you would have found a prophecy that had your names on it."

"Really? Do you think it could have survived the battle?" Fred asked eagerly.

"Entirely possible," Dumbledore smiled. "Harry and his friends certainly caused a lot of damage in there, but perhaps some prophecies survived."

"Do you know what it says?"

"Indeed I do. I have found that being dead gives one knowledge on a scale that they never imagined possible; but I think it best for you and your twin to discover what it says together."

"You said that neither of us can die while the other still lives, that's like the opposite of Harry and Voldemort right?"

"Yes, you and George are connected by love; a bond that is entirely welcome. Harry and Voldemort's connection was wanted by neither party and so they could not live properly until one had vanquished the other."

"Were? Have they done it then? Is it over? Is Voldemort dead?" Fred babbled eagerly.

"Yes, Voldemort is dead. The war is finished," Dumbledore smiled, as Fred's spirit soared. It was all over and he and George never needed to worry about being separated by death again. He was going back to George; his heart fluttered excitedly and Fred felt tears of happiness slip from his left eye. He wiped them away embarrassed, but Dumbledore continued to smile at him.

"A word of warning Mr Weasley, with this bond comes great power; beware those who would be afraid of it." Fred nodded; he and George were unique; people would want to study them like lab rats.

"So, your choice Fred. I must urge you to hurry," Dumbledore insisted. "The longer you spend away from George, the weaker your bond will become until you will be unable to go back," he warned.

"Yeah, separation was never good for us," Fred tried to laugh.

His choice seemed obvious he wanted to go back to George and his family with all his heart, pull them out of their deep mourning and reinstall a sense of happiness in all of their lives. But at the same time he still balked at the thought of returning and facing the feelings that had caused him so much distress for months and couldn't help but think that in some ways it would be better if he went on; if he let go of George. He was tired of life, tired of all the pain. But he wanted to go back to him so much and he imagined the hurt in George's eyes if he somehow found out that Fred had been given a choice that nobody else had been given and refused to take it, just because he was afraid to confide in his twin. He just couldn't do that to him; the choice was made. Fred didn't know whether this path would lead to happiness or to misery, but it was a path that he knew he had to take. The afterlife had never seemed so inviting, it offered peace and calm after everything that he had endured but Fred was brave he would not take the cowardly option; he wanted to see George so much. To hold him, to look into his beautiful gentle brown eyes again, see the gorgeous smile with one corner of the mouth turned slightly higher than the other and if life smiled on him to kiss those sweet lips and caress that supple form. He needed to tell George just how much he loved him.

Dumbledore observed his hesitation with a knowing smile. "The answer to your question can only be found down one path Fred." Fred stared at him, trying to keep his expression even, but it still betrayed his sense of horror at Dumbledore's insinuation.

"I...I want to go back of course," Fred said firmly.

"I think that will make him very happy indeed Mr Weasley. How happy is up to you." Dumbledore turned around and began to walk away, but Fred still had so many burning questions about his and George's soul bond, about the prophecy and this power that they had together.

"Professor wait...Professor!" But Dumbledore had vanished into the light which was steadily growing brighter and obscuring the shapes of Diagon alley's shops until there was nothing but the light. Fred felt himself slip into unconsciousness, happily so, as he knew that when he next woke up he would be with George and his family again.

* * *

Professor McGonagall observed the lines of the dead with sadness as she waited for the various families to return for the bodies of their loved ones. A good number had been and gone already and the rows of linen wrapped forms was much reduced. Madame Pomfrey had carefully cleaned each body and placed a preservative charm to prevent decay before burial. After the last funerals tomorrow Minerva intended to hold a memorial service in memory of those who had fallen. She paused by one long figure and struggled to fight back tears; a tuft of ginger hair was just visible poking out from underneath the sheet that covered the still handsome face in spite of the forces which had tore through the body. Tomorrow Fred would be buried and so would Remus and Tonks as her gaze slid to the two bodies laid out next to Fred's. The ghost of his twin's cries echoed around Minerva's head as he had clung to Fred's still form, so cruel Minerva thought...so cruel.

Filch ambled into the chamber with a shuffling gait, clutching a broom in his wizened left hand. Behind him as always Mrs Norris was staring around with her lamp like eyes and she hissed at the bodies with her tail held stiff. Minerva remembered ruefully the number of times that Filch and Mrs Norris had apprehended the twins for their mischief; Fred would never commit mischief again. No matter the number of times that the twins had been hauled up in her office, no matter the many detentions that she herself had had to dish out to them; she had still admired them for their nerve, talent and the way that they worked together in perfect synchronicity. But like the previous generation of pranksters, the Marauders, the Weasley twins had come to a sad end. Fred's last risk had been one too many.

"When will the Weasley family be coming ma'am?" His eyes ran over Fred's still form and he thought that no matter how horrible the little (now tall) tyke and his twin had been, no matter how many times he had had to chase the giggling nuisances wheezing and clutching his chest down corridors, even regardless of the many messes that they had left behind for him to clean up; the caretaker felt that he hadn't deserved to die. He'd even heard that the tiny devils they had once been had grown up to be of some use to the Order.

The Order had not yet been disbanded, it was still needed until peace was firmly established in the wizarding world and the remaining death eaters brought to justice for their atrocities. The ministry was firmly back in their control with Kingsley Shacklebolt acting as temporary Minister for magic until an election could be held. Already repair work was taking place on the castle by a team of volunteers; Minerva hoped that it would be in a fit state for the memorial tomorrow. The sight of debris everywhere would remind the grieving families even more of what they had lost.

With one last look at the protruding tuft of ginger hair, Minerva gestured to Filch to follow her out of the chamber to make the final touches to the entrance hall.

Fred's eyes slowly flickered open; the darkness nearly made him panic that he was again drifting helplessly through limbo, but the feel of a sheet pressed down over his face confirmed that he was very much alive. Slowly, he sat up and pushed the sheet off him, the movement making him aware of a horrible stabbing pain burning in his chest. It was so intense that he couldn't prevent himself from crying out and clutching his chest. He looked around and shuddered as he saw the row of bodies that he was part of. _Oh God Georgie, Mum, Dad. You all had to see me like this!_

His cries had brought Professor McGonagall and Filch running back into the room and they both paused in the doorway staring at Fred dumbfounded.

"Mr...Mr Weasley! How is this possible? You were dead! There was no doubt about it. You were killed in a huge explosion..." She continued to stare at him in a mixture of confusion and joy, but her shocked state was broken by her realisation that he was in pain. With remarkable agility for one of her age, she knelt down by his side and gripped his hand as Fred continued to grit his teeth in pain. But it slowly seeped out of him and he was able to relax. He turned to regard his old teacher with tears in his eyes.

"Where's..."

"They're at home. They were going to come and collect you today for your..." She broke off with a meaningful look at Fred and he swallowed hard. Tomorrow would have been his funeral...But then a beautiful smile broke over his face at the knowledge that there would be be no funeral...He was alive!

"I'll send my patronus right away and let them know," she said as she got off her knees and muttered the incantation. Fred heard her sending them a brief message that they should all come to the castle immediately because something wonderful had happened.

Fred swung his legs off the stretcher so that he was sitting on the edge of it and took several deep breaths to try and calm his fluttering heart. His family were coming...George was coming.

Professor Mcgonagall was back by his side again. "How are you feeling?" Her lined face radiated maternal concern as she rested her hand on Fred's shoulder.

"Wierd...emotional," he added with a wobbling voice.

"Oh, it's all okay now," she soothed as she threw her arms around Fred and he relaxed into the hug. _Wow, I never saw Professor McGonagall as a huggy type of person._

"I still don't understand how! It's a miracle!" She smiled, releasing Fred and rubbing his back.

"I'm still struggling to take it all in myself to be honest," Fred said. "It was a white place and I saw Dumbledore..."

"Just like Harry," Minerva gasped. Fred nodded, but wondered how Harry had come to be stuck in limbo, but it seemed that he had returned to the living far quicker than him. He guessed that George would tell him all about it later.

"How were my family when they... you know...Nobody else?"

"Distraught, especially your twin, but all unharmed," she smiled at him sadly. "Why don't you come through into the hall, away from these poor people," she suggested, gesturing to the other sheet covered bodies. "Easy does it," she said, as she helped him stand. _We're even on first name terms now!_

Fred stretched his stiff muscles, walking felt so odd as he made small careful movements, letting his body adjust to having life back in it. As they began to make their way to the door, Fred turned and looked at the two forms which had been laid out next to him.

"Who are those there?"

Minerva had to compose herself before answering his question. "Remus and Tonks," she said quietly.

Fred was devastated, as he thought of their new born son and he began to feel guilty that of all the people who'd died, it had been he who had been given the opportunity to return. Would the families of the dead be angry, resent him even? This new guilt was added to his already numerous burdens, as he took one last sorrowful look at the two covered bodies that he now knew to be Remus and Tonks and followed Professor Mcgonagall from that chamber of death and into the hall. From the quality of the light pouring through the large arched windows, Fred judged that it must be some time in the morning. He looked down at his left wrist which still bore the watch that George had given him at Christmas. It was with joy that Fred observed the minute handle, as George's smiling face gazed at him. _I love you more and more every minute of my life,_ Fred thought happily as the tiny image comforted him and promised that he would soon see that beloved face in the flesh. The watch was slightly battered, but it was nothing that couldn't be fixed and he noted with glee that it was somehow still working in spite of the explosion.

It was ten o'clock in the morning.

Fred frowned, feeling that he was missing something. He knew that his pendant was missing, he still had his watch... _My wand._

He knew that it had been in his hand when the corridor had exploded and remembered it being flung across the space. _Perhaps Georgie has it._

Minerva pressed a glass of water into his right hand and he sipped at it gratefully, feeling it flood into his stomach and begin to hydrate his body. He tapped his fingers on his thigh with agitation and smiled, knowing that he was mirroring his twin's own body language whenever he was feeling nervous. His smile faltered though when he imagined the state of his family, their eyes would all be puffy and red rimmed through crying... and George. What state was he in? Had he ate anything? Had he been able to sleep at all?

"Professor, how long have I been...you know?"

"A week Mr Weasley."

A whole week, he'd been dead for a whole week! A week of drifting through the darkness, no wonder that he'd began to feel so lonely. The drumming of fingers on his thigh increased, as he felt that he couldn't bear to wait another minute to let them all know that he was okay.

* * *

When George woke up as the clocks chimed nine on the ninth of May in Fred's bed, he had to face the solid fact that Fred had been gone for an entire week and he was not coming back. When George had heard how Harry had found himself in King's Cross Station, a foolish hope had filled him that perhaps Fred would be able to choose as well. He'd quickly talked himself out of this though; Fred had not had a piece of Voldemort's soul living inside him. There was no possibility that he could come back. George knew that he had to find a way to accept that Fred was never coming back to him, or he'd be causing himself and the rest of the family more pain by hoping for the impossible. He and Fred had always hated that word, in their eyes anything had been possible. Ginny's fondest lesson from them was that you can make the impossible possible if you've got enough nerve. But death was something that no mortal could challenge George thought bitterly, regardless of the amount of daring that they possessed. Its power over them was absolute.

He couldn't help but contemplate _how_ exactly Harry had managed to survive. Surely the killing curse would not have distinguished between Harry and the piece of Voldemort's soul, but killed everything that it came into contact with?

The pieces of Fred's wand were lying on the bedside table that was placed between the two twin beds. George picked up the handle and ran a finger over the bumps that always reminded him of the nubs on a pine cone. He saw no point in trying to mend it; trying would only bring him more disappointment.

As he forced himself out of bed, he decided firmly that he needed to change his clothes, as he realised that he stank. With trembling fingers he pulled the long sleeved green top over his head and deposited it on the floor. It was going to be painful he knew that, as he couldn't ignore the fact that for the first time in their lives he and his twin were going to be wearing completely different clothes. He looked down at his pale, flat chest which had once possessed well defined muscles from years of Quiditch playing. To him the pale flesh looked distinctly unattractive but he couldn't care less, although he anticipated a lonely life ahead. He and Fred had promised to never leave each other for somebody else, but now that he was gone George knew that in all probability he would stay single even though Fred was no longer here. _Who would be attracted to me anyway?_ He thought with pessimism; his feeling of ugliness was further confirmed when he caught sight of his grief stricken face in the mirror. It was with further indifference that he poked at his chest and noted the bones that were clearly visible under skin so pale that it looked dead. He hadn't eaten in a week. Every tray of food which his Mother had left him had sat uneaten to be taken away again sadly.

Like the walking dead he trudged over to the unoccupied bathroom and locked the door behind him. George slowly stripped away the last of his clothes and examined his body in the mirrors over the bath. The rest of it was as pale as his chest; the only pinpoints of colour were the fiery locks on his head and the dark auburn hair that was nestled around his member. _How could I have thought Fred would find this attractive,_ he thought with disgust.

He ran some hot water and stepped into the bath to soak. If it had been entirely up to him he would have chosen to wallow in self pity and leave himself to reek, but Harry's words had struck the old Weasley twin defiance. Boy was he not going to let the jumped up git be right; he was not going to be selfish. He was going to wash, put some clothes on and go down for breakfast, even if he didn't eat a thing. But he felt tears brimming up; he wasn't ready to be strong and put on a brave face for the rest of the family. Freddie hadn't even been gone that long. No, he wasn't going to let Harry guilt trip him into anything. He couldn't face the entire family after what he'd gone through last night he thought, as the tears brimmed over and slid down the pale flesh. He'd wondered when the nightmares were going to begin and they certainly hadn't let him down he thought miserably. They'd been waiting until the fact that his Freddie was dead had fully sunk in and left no room for denial. Over and over again, he had had to relive those horrific moments from the battle, forcing to separate from Fred, discovering his body and him being forcibly removed from his twin's body so that he could be taken away. Even the memories that used to be happy had taken on a nightmarish quality as they reminded him of everything that had been lost.

With wooden movements he washed his body and hair and pulled the plug. Grabbing a towel from the airing cupboard he draped it around his waist and knotted it loosely on his hip. Sniffing, he grabbed his pile of clothes and unlocked the door and crossed over to his and Fred's room, attempting to smile weakly at Ginny who was crossing the landing. He shut the bedroom door behind him and pulled a dark blue shirt from the wardrobe and a pair of black jeans from the chest of drawers.

Hermione joined Ginny on the landing outside who was staring mournfully at the twins' closed door.

"At least he's starting to look after himself," Hermione said quietly to Ginny whose eyes were very red and her face blotchy.

"Yes, I suppose washing is a start," Ginny tried to smile.

"Let's go and get some breakfast Gin," Hermione took her arm comfortingly and they began to descend the stairs.

With shaking fingers George pulled on the clean clothes and sank onto the edge of Fred's bed. Today they were going to fetch Fred and tomorrow his twin would be laid to rest. He had no idea how he was going to approach tomorrow. He'd been told that it was going to be an open casket so that everybody could say goodbye properly. He shuddered as more tears brimmed over; how could he calmly say goodbye knowing that it would be the last time that he ever saw his twin's face? Fred's last words to him up on the battlements were constantly in his mind.

_"Are you okay Freddie?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Me too."_

How fate must have laughed at them as they had exchanged those words! With hindsight George saw the terrible irony in them: Fred hadn't been okay he'd been destined to die. And while he might have pretended to be okay as they stood together watching the shield fall, barely a couple of hours after that moment George had not been okay...His heart had been broken. And the last words he had ever spoken, Percy had told him had been unfinished.

_"I haven't heard you joke since-"_

George guessed that he had been referring to before Percy had started attending Hogwarts and his pompous nature had developed, but he could only guess. He would never know for sure.

Pulling on a pair of shoes he braved going downstairs where everyone was eating to fetch another glass of water. He couldn't let himself die, he had to make some semblance of making an effort to live he thought. He passed into the kitchen, where everyone immediately paused with a spoon to their mouth or a mug raised to their lips to look at him.

"Morning," he said in barely a whisper; a mile away from the sexy tone that he had put on to make Fred laugh.

"Good morning sweetheart," Mrs Weasley murmured.

"Morning George," everyone else joined. Harry was the only one avoiding his eyes, staring down at his plate guiltily.

George filled a glass and gulped it down quickly; he hadn't realised how thirsty he was. Filling the glass again, he became aware of his Mother standing behind him with a hand reached up to rest on his shoulder.

"Do you want something to eat Georgie dear," she offered hopefully.

"No thanks Mum."

"Oh...ok, but you haven't ate for a week. Promise me you'll try something later sweetheart."

"Sure Mum;" his voice was still barely more than a whisper. He risked a glance at the kitchen table, but as there were so many people staying at the Burrow there were no empty chairs to cruelty indicate the absence of its usual occupant. Bill and Fleur were sitting where he and Fred usually did. As he moved away from the sink he caught sight of a long shape lying on a table outside and moved to the backdoor to see what it was.

"George! Don't!" Mrs Weasley's voice was panicked and she tried to grab his arm and prevent him from seeing what the object was, but he evaded her grip and stood in the doorway.

With a gasp he collapsed against the frame at the sight of the wooden coffin that would soon hold the body of his Freddie. All the strength that he had managed to summon failed him and wracking sobs escaped him.

"No...No!" He moaned. "He can't be gone...we're not burying him. Fred..." His voice peetered away feebly and he allowed himself to sink to the floor in a heap; all week despite his immense grief he had managed to avoid breaking down completely, but now he gave in to it and became completely insensible to his mother's distraught voice as she tried to comfort him.

It was nearly ten o'clock.

"Molly, my darling. He's going to be okay," Arthur tried to console her desperately. "Bill, Charlie, help George onto the sofa please." Ashen faced, the eldest Weasley brothers gripped George under the arms and lead him to the sofa.

"He's going to grieve to death. He's suffering so much it would almost be kinder if he..." Mrs Weasley sobbed. "Why didn't I shut the damm door when he came down?"

"He had to see it at some point," Mr Weasley said quietly, as he rubbed Ginny's shoulder who had begun to cry too. Mr Weasley looked from one sad face to the other, to the coffin outside and the insensible body lying on the sofa and felt his heart sinking; his family was in so much pain and there was nothing that he could do about it.

The ginger family cat padded softly into the living room and miaowed at George. It jumped onto the sofa next to him and curled up by his arm; this partly roused George from his stupor and he seized the animal gently. Mrs Weasley entered the living room to see her devastated son cuddling the cat with tears pouring down his cheeks. She clapped her hand over her heart and moved to stroke his hair. Ginny entered behind her and sat next to her brother on the sofa to wrap her arms securely around him.

A silvery orb of light shot through the kitchen window and materialised into a cat; McGonagall's voice could be heard speaking in an excited tone. Mrs Weasley and Ginny rushed back into the kitchen to listen to the message.

"Come to the castle immediately all of you, something wonderful has happened!" As quickly as it had come, the patronus vanished and everyone was left staring at each other bewildered.

"What on earth now?" Mrs Weasley sighed.

Mr Weasley crossed over to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "We can only find out by going it seems. Everyone ready?"

Mrs Weasley returned to the living room and approached George carefully who was still clutching the cat. "George? Minerva has contacted us and asked that we go up to the castle for goodness knows what, but do you want to come with us?" She asked gently.

He shook his head slowly and stroked the cat's fur; it was soft and sleek just like Fred's hair.

"Will you be okay by yourself for a bit then my dear?" Again he nodded and buried his face in the cat's fur. Mrs Weasley stroked his cheek once and returned to the others in the kitchen.

"What if he...while we're gone."

"Molly, darling. He's had his wand with him all week. There was nothing to stop him before," Arthur reassured her.

"I don't mind staying with him," Ginny offered.

"I think he's quite happy with the cat dear," Mrs Weasley smiled weakly. "We probably won't be long anyway."

They soon left and the house was eerily quiet. Eventually the cat got fed up of being squeezed and escaped from his grasp; George stared after it sadly. He looked up at the family clock and noticed for the first time that both his and Fred's hands were pointing at 'Lost'. Without his twin George felt that he would remain lost for the rest of his life. Unlike the other hands, his and Fred's were attached to each other; the picture of Fred's face above George's. He curled up in a ball on the sofa and closed his eyes, wishing that everything would just go back to the way that it was.

After a short interval he opened them again and frowned. George felt something calling to him, it was strong and it seemed to be within him, inside his heart, a part of his soul. It felt like Fred; never before had George been able to perceive this bond so clearly. It beckoned to him and obediently George got off the sofa, feeling drawn to this magical connection. Whatever it was had roused him from his stupor and he was determined to discover its source; he would go wherever it led him. As George walked outside and took out his wand to disapparate, two silver hands moved together from 'Lost' to 'Home'.

_Without you I am lost,_

_In your arms I know I am home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys! Just to let you all know, the story is also on fan fiction in case anything ever happened to my account and you wanted to finish it. :)


	26. A Saint's Reward

Fred felt like he had been waiting for hours when in reality it was only getting on for a quarter of an hour since Professor Mcgonagall had sent her patronus. He guessed that the passage of time seemed slower because he had nothing else to focus on apart from his desperate desire to see his family. With so much nervous energy Fred found it impossible to sit quietly and wait, so he found himself pacing backwards and forwards, up and down the hall in agitation.

"I'm sure they will be here soon Mr Weasley. If they don't turn up in the next fifteen minutes I'll apparate you to the Burrow myself. I don't want you going anywhere alone in case your chest starts hurting again"; Minerva said with authority.

"Thanks. Though the pain's gone, but I suppose I'd better be on the safe side eh," he grinned at the surprised look on her face.

"I never would have expected such words to come out of your mouth Fred," she smiled at him shaking her head. Fred knew that over the past ten months he and George had changed considerably; he more so than George. He wondered whether now they were all back together that their family would notice this transformation. Fred still loved a good joke, that would certainly never change, but he'd become a quieter, less brazen and more careful person, allowing his best qualities to shine through brighter than they ever had before.

Fred paused in his pacing at the much anticipated sound of many footsteps reverberating off the stone flooring and looked towards the hall's doors eagerly as a large group of people came into view. Fred's eyes scanned over them rapidly seeking out the tallest figure who would be his twin, but it was Bill; George wasn't here. His heart sank slightly as he began to panic that something had happened to him, but the sight of his family still filled him with the kind of joy and relief that he had not felt for so long. But Fred knew that everything was not quite over yet; not until he had completely unburdened his soul to his twin would he find peace.

The group of stunned Weasleys stared at Fred, all believing that they were seeing his ghost. How could this be?

"I did tell you that it was something wonderful," Minerva smiled joyfully as she beckoned them all forward into the hall. Nobody reacted, nobody moved as they all continued to gaze at Fred in astonishment. Ron's mouth gaped in a wide 'o', so shocked was he that he didn't even feel Hermione's nails digging into his hand as she gripped it tightly. It was Mrs Weasley who finally broke the long seconds of stupefied silence that rang louder than a room full of chattering voices ever could. Fred was alive, alive and smiles began to break out among their faces as with a shriek of pure joy Molly ran across the space that divided her from Fred, who strode forward to meet her.

"My baby! Oh. How, how is this possible. Oh I don't care...That doesn't matter...You're alive!" With outstretched arms Mrs Weasley grasped Fred and pulled him down to her. Tears sparkled in the eyes of both Mother and Son as she stroked his face and held him tightly, reassuring herself that he was indeed real and not an hallucination or ghost.

"Hello Mum," Fred whispered, as everybody else ran to the center of the hall and surrounded them making noises of pure delight and joy. With the sight of Fred miraculously alive and well a large piece of Harry's guilt was lifted away; the twins were going to be reunited, he wasn't going to be the cause of their destruction after all.

Fred was crying now, as small sobs escaped him; sobs that reminded everyone of George's raw grief. Mrs Weasley stroked his hair soothingly and made gentle shushing noises. "It's okay sweetheart, you're safe now, you're safe; we've all been devastated. We all love you so much and never imagined that you'd be taken from us," her voice trembled. "But it's all okay now, everything is going to be fine! We were all preparing ourselves to say goodbye to you tomorrow sweetheart, but now we don't need to!" She was both laughing and crying as she gently released Fred so that he could be swept in by his Father's arms. Mr Weasley rubbed his back and sighed with relief in the knowledge that his family was going to be mended.

"Good to have you back son. God we all need you," he smiled.

Fred nodded smiling too, but inside he was tremulous of the expectations of happiness that he saw in everybody's eyes. He didn't feel like he'd brought happiness with him, only his many burdens, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let them all down; he was going to make the family feel alive again. Percy had crept up behind them and Fred turned to see the utter relief in his brother's face as Percy seized him in the tightest hug that Fred had ever received from him. "I was near you, but there was nothing I could do; I'm sorry Fred," he sobbed.

Fred gripped Percy's shoulders firmly and shook his head. "Perce of course it wasn't your fault; I don't want anyone to blame themselves. Unless you were trying to bump me off after all the stick that me and George gave you," he smiled through his tears.

"I deserved that and it was quite funny," Percy mumbled. "Acting like I was better than you all the time. I wasn't the big brother that I should have been."

Fred grinned and seized him in a hug that was as tight as the one that Percy had just given him. "Well I think I like the new humble Percy; but you had an impossible task trying to set an example for George and me, you're a great brother and you can stop feeling guilty now."

Percy pushed his glasses further up his nose and smiled. "Thanks Fred." Mrs Weasley began to weep harder at the sight of such a touching reunion and reconciliation between the two children who out of all the siblings had got on the worst. Percy stepped to the side to allow Ron and Ginny to simultaneously grab Fred and hug him so tightly that they began to constrict his airways.

"Don't...re-kill me," he spluttered with difficulty. Ginny immediately released him apologising, but Ron continued to cling to him for several more seconds before letting go and wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket.

"I finally got my hug then," Fred teased as Ron shook his head at him. Ron would never admit it to him out loud, but he'd missed Fred's good natured teasing.

"Are you alright Gin?" Ginny shook her head and Fred wrapped his arms around her.

"I missed you," she said. "I missed both of you," she whispered so that only Fred could hear. Fred's concern for George continued to grow at her words and a thousand fears for his well being played on his mind; his desire to comfort his twin escalated and the thing that he wanted to know above all else became a burning question. _Where's George?_ Bill, Charlie and Fleur each took their own hugs from him, murmuring how glad they were to find him alive. Hermione next came forward to take hold of him; her bushy brown hair hanging loosely over her shoulders.

"Well this goes against all logic, but I'm so glad that you're okay Fred," she mumbled against his shoulder.

"Well, I've always prided myself on doing impossible things," he chuckled. He held her at arms length and gave her an evil grin. "Did mine eyes deceive me or were you and ickle Ronnekins holding hands." Hermione's shade of crimson made it clear to Fred that they had finally confessed their feelings to each other; he wondered whether he'd ever summon up the strength that he needed to reveal his own to the person that he loved.

"Damm. If you'd waited another two weeks George would be massaging _my feet,"_ he winked at her to everyone's amusement. Fred turned to Harry who had so far remained unobtrusively in the background.

"Is nobody else back?" Harry asked as he saw Fred's attention shifting to him. Fred's smile faded away and he stared at his shoes. "No. No. It's just me. There was a white place and I saw-"

"Dumbledore," Harry guessed.

"Yeah. Anyway he told me a load of confusing stuff and here I am," he said quietly.

"What did he tell you?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Oh what does that matter right now?" Mrs Weasley ended the conversation. "Poor Fred must be quite overwhelmed as it is without us all bombarding him with questions." Fred had never felt so grateful to his Mother than he did in that moment; before he told anyone else about the reason he'd been able to come back he needed to tell George, it was rather personal after all and Fred felt that his twin had a right to know first. Despite Mrs Weasley's entreaty everybody was beginning to regard Fred with curiosity, now that their initial shock and joy at seeing him alive had blown over.

"Well however you're here I'm so glad that one less person had to lose their life because of me," Harry smiled as he gave Fred a quick hug and stepped back. Fred smiled back at him, half exasperated, half amused. It seemed that Harry's slight hero complex was still intact.

Finally, Fred couldn't wait any longer. Nobody had offered any explanation for George's absence and Fred needed him so much. A horrible thought occurred to him; what if George had taken the opportunity of everyone being out of the house to kill himself? What if they went home and Fred found his dead body? If he made the conscious decision to die then Fred didn't think somehow that he'd be able to come back, regardless of their soul bond. In that situation the word 'tragedy' would not be enough to describe it, but Fred firmly calmed himself and stopped his imagination from causing himself unnecessary panic. George was fine; he knew now that he would have felt something if he had died, but instead he could feel their connection deep inside of him, wrapped securely around his essence.

"So where is his holiness then?" Fred's voice was barely a whisper as he looked frantically from one face to another. He had attempted to keep his tone light, but everyone heard the unmistakable longing in his voice for his twin.

"He stayed at home," Ginny sniffed.

"He'd broken down just before we left because he saw what was going to be your coffin," Hermione finished for Ginny. Fred's lower lip wobbled at the thought of his twin's pain and the trauma that he had gone through. _Will I be able to heal him?_

"Shall we get back to him then and surprise him," Fred suggested as he tried desperately to blink back tears.

"Yes," Mrs Weasley nodded. "Let's get you back to your twin," she said as more happy, sad tears slipped down her cheeks and Mr Weasley slipped an arm around her tightly.

Fred was trying to calculate the minimum possible time in which it would take them to get home to see how long his pining heart had left to wait, when a figure suddenly appeared in the shadow of the hall's great doors.

* * *

George let the connection guide him as he apparated and as soon as his feet landed on the gravel of Hogwart's driveway he felt it growing even stronger; he guessed that it must be because he was much closer to Fred's body now. He couldn't believe that it had only been a week since he'd last been here, as after a while the castle swept into view. The battle seemed so long ago, already it felt as if it had been an eternity since he had last seen his twin. If a week apart felt like this, how was he going to feel after a month, a year, a decade? The grief would have frozen him again if the strange connection had not suddenly filled him with warmth and urged his legs to keep moving. It may have been May but hell it was still cold and George began to wish that he'd slipped a jacket over his shirt before setting off. His body felt as cold as his numb heart.

As he approached the bridge, he saw the remains of the battle still lying across it and the large cracks and pieces of railing that had been blasted away from it, leaving it dangerous to pass in some places. He looked up at the castle and saw that repair work had begun to take place; the towers which just a week ago had been on fire were looking much as they had done before the death eaters had taken everything from him. He had said that he would never come back here, that it would be too painful to revisit the place where his twin had died, but for some reason he now found himself walking towards that place, drawn by a magical connection that felt like Fred, but couldn't possibly be Fred. His twin was dead, so what was this?

With a slow stride he had reached the center of the bridge, here the breeze played more strongly with his hair. He pushed his fringe out of his face and paused to take in the awesome yet forbidding grandeur of the scene. Everything looked grey and bleak, devoid of colour just as George's world was devoid of all hope and happiness. He moved towards a particularly large gap in the balustrade of the bridge and stepped up onto a broken piece of masonry, unaware that here Harry had stood and tossed the pieces of the elder wand into the precipice below.

George shuffled the toes of his shoes closer to the edge so that they were nearly hanging off and he stared unafraid down at the terrifying drop beneath him and at the jagged cliff tops which rose above him beyond the drop. A white mist was gathering so that he was not able to see the bottom and he breathed deeply; the knowledge that a single gust of strong wind could push him into the abyss was strangely satisfying to George, as he rocked forward slightly and imagined letting himself fall through that mist to break on the rocks below. It would be peaceful after all the pain: it would feel like flying. Birds twittered as they flew above him and the gentle breeze felt like cold fingers stroking his face, as he closed his eyes and savored the sensation of standing up here and risking his life because his life didn't matter to him. He wanted to die.

He wanted to jump so much, he was going to do it; he couldn't live without Fred. But then he thought that nobody would ever find his body, he wouldn't be able to lie peacefully next to his twin. He couldn't do it; he couldn't jump with the thought of his family never knowing what had happened to him. A solitary tear slipped from his left eye and traveled down his cheek as George opened his eyes to the weak sunlight that was starting to penetrate the light cloud. He looked down once again at the drop and stepped closer to the edge as the persuasive voice in his head told him to do it, to end his misery but he became aware of another entity trying to draw him away from the edge. The strange connection that he felt was begging him not to jump, to let it take him up to the castle and as it felt like Fred George obeyed its gentle command and stepped back down onto the bridge.

His face was one of abject misery as he reached the end of the bridge and came out onto the courtyard which was also still littered with debris from the battle. George stepped over the fallen masonry and made his way to the stairs. He felt the strange magical connection becoming almost excited as it urged him on faster to climb the steps and cross the entrance hall. The sound of voices reached his 'ears' and he wondered what it was that had prompted Professor Mcgonagall to call them all here so suddenly in their grief; they would have been coming this afternoon anyway to collect Fred. It was probably just a change of plan he thought miserably as he approached the doors to the great hall and paused in the entrance. Hie eyes could not believe what they were seeing; it was impossible. It couldn't be; the fear was taunting him with hallucinations.

Fred was alive!

Alive...

* * *

Fred was the first to notice the shadowy figure stood rigid in the doorway and even from a distance he knew exactly who it was, as his heart felt close to bursting with happiness.

"George," he uttered his twin's name with a tone so full of delight and affection that the surrounding group were deeply touched and Professor McGonagall discreetly wiped at a tear that had escaped her eye.

"Fred?" George's voice was so quiet that it could hardly be heard from the center of the hall, but Fred's ears were so keenly tuned to the sound of that low, beautiful voice that he heard each syllable he uttered as clearly as if he had shouted it. As his twin moved from the doorway and came into sharper focus Fred took in a breath sharply. He'd known that George would have been in a terrible state, but the deep suffering that he now saw on his twin's face was a thousand times worse than he'd imagined. _Oh Georgie._

They continued to stare at each other for several moments, both frozen in a state of shock at each other's unexpected presence. After a few seconds George let himself dare to believe that his eyes and ears were not deceiving him that Fred was real and he felt the bond give a great tug forwards and George obeyed the instinct to rush forward across the hall.

"Fred!" His voice was a strangled noise somewhere between a sob and a cry of joy as he sprinted up the hall towards Fred who was also running to meet him with open arms.

_30 feet_

_20 feet_

_10 feet_

_5 feet_

As the distance between them rapidly lessened George felt his last doubts vanish at the sight of the very real and solid body bounding towards him. With tears pouring down both of their faces regardless of the number of people watching them they swept each other up and clung tightly, drawing the other as close to their body as possible. Fred's arms shook as he wrapped them around George's waist with a unyielding grip and felt his twin pushing his face into the crook of his neck and inhaling his scent deeply. He removed one arm from his waist to caress his hair gently and secured the other one even tighter, allowing his hand to rest on George's left hip. Their need to be close dominated everything as George began to rub his hands up and down Fred's back, wanting to touch as much of him as possible.

George raised his tear streaked face from Fred's neck to meet his twins's eyes and they both saw intense relief and love mirrored in each other's orbs. Fred lent forwards to rest their forwards together as George lifted a trembling hand to stroke his cheek. Fred was crying too, letting his emotions pore out of him as he removed his left hand from George's hair and trailed a finger over his cheekbone and across his jaw. Their mocha brown eyes alone conveyed more than words ever could as they locked gazes and read the other's turmoil of emotions. They could feel each other's hearts beating at a gallop through the chests that were pressed so close together; George felt instantly soothed by the feel of Fred's heart beating, providing irrefutable evidence that Fred was alive.

"You...You were dead...It happened...Like we always feared it would," George's voice quavered. "But now you're somehow alive," he gasped pulling back slightly and holding Fred at arms length to gaze at him.

"Yeah, I'm all bright and shiny and new," his twin attempted to say with a humorous tone but it emerged in a gulping sob. "Not like you Mister; you're a wreck," his voice trembled as his eyes traveled over George's form taking in how ill he looked, at his sunken grief ridden eyes and the paleness of his skin. It was immediately obvious how thin he was from the tight black jeans that he was wearing and the figure hugging dark blue shirt and Fred felt sadness flooding through him. George noticed his twin's distraught reaction to his condition and attempted to joke feebly.

"I guess you're the better looking half of the Weasley twins now Freddie." For both twins this immediately brought back the horrific night when George had lost his ear, as the humor failed to console and once again they grasped each other; allowing their shared grief to manifest itself in sobs that were partially muffled from how closely they were pressing their faces against one another.

All attention was upon this beautiful, emotional reunion and Mrs Weasley smiled at the tenderness with which they were holding one another. The others were gaping at them shocked, never before had they seen the twins like this, for they had never allowed themselves to be caught demonstrating just how much they loved one another; this realisation of the depth of the love beneath the joking facades that they had been presented with made them truly understand what George had gone through for the first time. The guilt that had left Harry after Fred had been found alive crept back as his words to George felt even nastier than before. _Fred is going to murder me if he finds out._

"It's all going to be okay now," Fred promised as he cupped George's face and pressed his lips firmly to the porcelain skin of his forehead. George heard the soft click of flesh on flesh and couldn't help but murmur contentedly; Fred heard the murmur and smiled at him with tenderness before pressing another kiss to his cheek.

Emotionally and physically exhausted, George let his head fall to Fred's shoulder, his knees close to buckling. Sensing this, Fred slipped an arm tightly around his shoulders and led him over to the benches that were against the wall and pushed him gently to sit on the smooth wooden surface. George tugged Fred down by his side and Fred scooted up close to him so that their thighs were pressed together. Fred pulled George's head back down onto his shoulder and he again ran a hand through the soft hair as he watched his twin close his eyes. He wiped away the tears that still lined the soft skin with his thumb and raised his eyes to smile at the others. The fear had nudged at his stomach of what their family would think about the way that they were touching one another, but there was no disgust only sentiment in all of their eyes and he felt reassured that in such a moment nobody would ever think about judging them like that. George had just found out that he was alive; they were free to touch however they liked.

Mrs Weasley approached them and sank down heavily next to Fred, slipping an arm around his shoulder and touching George's cheek she smiled at them with a mixture of happiness and sadness.

"My poor twins," she said softly, as George migrated to Fred's chest and snuggled with his head beneath Fred's chin; his right hand moving over to lightly touch Fred's stomach and hips.

Not one face was completely dry as Ginny also joined them on the bench and hugged George from behind. "You don't need to be sad anymore George," she said thankfully.

"No Gin, but how Freddie?" He raised his head from his twin's chest and Fred read the confusion in his brown orbs.

"There was a white place and I saw Dumbledore; apparently Harry had been there too because he had a piece of Voldemort's soul in him."

"Yes I was, Voldemort himself killed that part of him. I was a horcrux." Harry nodded, wondering why Fred had been able to return to the living whilst Remus, Tonks, Colin and all those others remained lost to them; not that he wasn't happy to see Fred of course.

George's brows knitted together, he was so unbelievably happy that Fred was alive again, but now questions were starting to bombard his brain. How had Freddie been given this choice?

"Were you a horcrux too or something?" George's eyes betrayed his intense confusion and he frowned trying to understand how this wonderful event was even possible.

"No Georgie," he replied with a look that said _I'll explain everything later when we're alone._

George nodded imperceptibly and Fred pulled him back against his chest as their Father strode forward and gently pulled Molly into his arms again. "Let's go home Molly, before the other families come for their loved ones. We don't want them to see Fred alive and their own relative still dead. I'll send an owl to the ministry and ask them to revoke Fred's death certificate; hopefully we can keep this quiet and pretend it was just a misprint in the paper that listed Fred's name as one of the dead. We don't want people hassling our son."

"No Arthur. It's a bloody miracle. I don't want a gang of reporters bothering us," she sniffed.

"I'm sure Kingsley will sort everything out. Oh it's so wonderful!" Minerva smiled. "I'll see you all tomorrow I expect," she added as she patted George's shoulder and left the hall first with Filch to carry on with her preparations.

Again in twos the group set off to walk back to the boundary, but this was quite different to the dejected and battle weary people who had made the same walk just a week ago and George was all too aware of the happy contrast. Now he had Fred by his side as they made their way down the hall in front; their arms still around each other's waists. Everyone was chattering and smiling happily for the first time in a week, though still respectfully aware of the other friends who had been lost. The two tall figures walking ahead of the rest of them did much to raise the spirits of everybody else with the knowledge that the Weasley twins were not dead after all, that everything was going to be okay and that although tomorrow would still be extremely sad with the memorial service they had no reason to fear it as much as they had been. There would be no funeral; Fred had been returned to them.

"It was going to be your funeral tomorrow," George spoke in a low voice so that they couldn't be overheard.

"I'm so sorry Georgie that you had to go through this. I-"

George had held up his hand and stopped Fred's apology in its tracks. "It wasn't your fault; you couldn't stop a bloody explosion Freddie," he said firmly, trying to grin. What had once been so natural now felt forced and Fred couldn't help but chuckle at his effort.

"I guess we can help each other to smile with proper happiness again," he said rubbing George's back. "I love you so much Georgie and I'm still sorry for how much you've been hurting. I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through."

"I'm sure you can. You told me that you thought I was dead when you first came into the living room that night," he sniffed and brushed at another stray tear. "I love you too, so much Freddie. I've missed you", he whispered as he smiled with true joy for the first time in a while.

"And I missed you my twin," Fred smiled back. "I was just drifting through blackness until I came to the white place. It was horrible and so lonely," he said trying to fight back tears.

George made a noise of dismay and took Fred's hand, intertwining the fingers with his. "I thought I'd never see you again and then suddenly I was in what looked like Diagon alley and Dumbledore was in our shop. He told me that we have a soul bond, that we're twin souls in fact, and that it was this connection, and how much we love each other, that meant I could choose to come back or go on and obviously I wanted to come back to you my Georgie."

"Oh Freddie; sounds like you've had a crap week as well," George said blinking at this surprising information and squeezing Fred's hand harder.

"Don't you see what it means Georgie? As long as one of us lives, the other can't be taken away from them. It's basically the opposite of Harry and Voldemort. You know the whole 'neither can live while the other survives' thing?" George nodded rapidly, drinking in Fred's every word.

"Not even death can separate us." he said gleefully as the castle disappeared from view and their feet crunched on the gravel of the drive.

"No George. We don't ever need to let the fear terrify us again. I love magic," Fred laughed, intertwining their fingers even more. "Do you want to tell the others?"

"Yes, I think we should try and explain part of it; they need some explanation of why you suddenly turned up alive," George smiled again.

"Yeah," Fred laughed suddenly despite his burdens and everybody listened with glee to the sound of his bubbling laughter being carried on the breeze. "You can't get rid of me," he teased. "Looks like you're stuck with me Georgie boy," he grinned as George smiled at the sound that he loved most in the world, the sound of Fred laughing; he wasn't quite ready to laugh yet too but knew that his twin would help him to move on from those dark days of believing that Fred was lost to him forever.

"Damm. I can't bump you off and have the shop to myself," he tried to joke again as Fred looked at him with admiration.

"You've been so brave. I'm so proud of you," he said in the most loving tones as they neared the gate. George smiled back but he couldn't help doubt that he deserved Fred to be proud of him. _I was selfish. Would he still be proud if he knew that I locked myself in my room?_

"What Georgie?" Fred asked, as he saw doubt pass across his twin's face.

"I haven't been brave. I locked myself in our room at the Burrow and didn't try and make everyone feel happier," he said guiltily.

"Yes you are. I would have killed myself," Fred confessed.

"I wanted to so much; I nearly did a couple of times, but I couldn't do it because of our family," George met his eyes and sighed.

"And that is why I love you so much you selfless saint. Always thinking of other people before your own pain," Fred's eyes were filled with tenderness as he regarded George with awe.

"And because I thought it was pointless. I didn't know that there was anything after death Fred. If I had known that you were in pain too I would have done it," he spoke quietly.

"Oh George. I never knew. We never spoke about that. Oh God, you thought you were never going to see me again, ever didn't you?"

"Yeah," he whispered as more tears slipped down his cheeks and he brushed at them.

"Oh Georgie," Fred groaned crying too as George's shoulders began to shake. "Try and keep it in until we get home and then you can cry on my shoulder as much as you need to," he said rubbing his thumb across the back of George's hand.

"I'm trying. They're all so happy now, I don't want to upset them again."

"Who would have thought that it would be the Weasley Twins who sucked the life out of everything," Fred smiled ruefully.

"We're only human, not joke machines," George said.

"Maybe everyone will realise that now," Fred smiled ruefully. "Did you see Ron's face when we were being so soppy back there," he said trying to keep George from tears until they could retreat to the privacy of their room.

"Yeah, I always forget that we never really touch each other much in front of people," George gave a watery smile.

"Ummm. People would think it was-"

"Weird," they finished together. Both averted their gaze from the other momentarily and George felt a blush creeping over his skin. They turned to look at each other again and smiled awkwardly; George's thoughts turned back to the photograph on the mantelpiece and the way that Fred had been looking at him. The tiny flame of hope that it had ignited was steadily growing in strength as he noted the flush that had also crept over his twin's skin, it was easily noticeable considering that they were both so pale. He desperately hoped that considering recent events that Fred would decide to tell him what had been bothering him for so long and very nearly asked him right there, but he remembered with disappointment that he had promised not to ask again. He knew that if he did Fred would likely retreat into himself and he decided to focus instead on the wonderful fact that he was no longer faced with the prospect of a miserable life without his twin. Everything else would sort itself out eventually he hoped, as he leaned into his twin and they continued to walk in perfect rhythm together.

Fred did not share George's newly found hope, still firmly convinced that George's feelings for him were purely platonic and didn't know how he could bear this burden any longer. His feelings for his twin were so passionate, yet tender that he didn't know how much longer he could contain them without George becoming suspicious. Despite the fact that they were beyond the fear's reach now he still feared for what their future together held. They slowed their pace slightly so that the rest of their family could catch up with them, both carefully covering their sadness as their Mother smiled at them joyfully. Everyone thought that they were happy, little did they know that both twins were far from that blissful state and the twins didn't want to wreck their delusion. George would never be truly happy until the moment they were no longer hiding things from one another, but could be as open as they had always been until the war had partially closed them off from one another.

They waited for their family at the gate, all of whom were still chattering and smiling and if they saw the remnants of tears on each twin's face then they simply thought that they were joyful tears, and not the marks of the pain that had not yet been fully lifted.

"Well I never expected to be bringing you home Fred when Minerva suddenly summoned us," Mrs Weasley's voice wobbled.

"I never expected to ever come home again Mum when that explosion hit me," Fred said softly. George shuddered at the mention of it and Fred squeezed his hand.

"Hey at least it was a case of wrong place at the wrong time rather than me being defeated," Fred said cheerfully.

"Oh yes, who wouldn't want to be blown up rather than having their pride damaged," George added sarcastically to many chuckles. "And as you're so worried about our reputation I would like to tell you that I've completely destroyed it," he managed to grin. "Everyone heard me crying like a baby in that hall and most people probably weren't even sure which one of us it was."

"Allergies again then Georgie?" Fred chuckled as they shared a knowing look.

"I don't think anyone is going to fall for that this time Forge."

Fred's grin widened; nearly everyone was laughing now, their shoulders shaking with mirth. "Great so I leave in a blaze of glory as a carefree, loud, seemingly never sad prankster and come back as a grovelling mess."

"Yup, sorry about that," George ruffled his hair and looked towards their Mother who was the only one not laughing, finally seeing the cracks in their identical masks and realising that the two children who had never seemed unhappy in their lives had been hiding that sadness all along. She saw with horror the toll that keeping everyone happy and bringing so much light to the world had taken on them; they had sacrificed their own happiness for everyone else's and she considered how well she really knew her twins underneath all the laughter. How much of it had been empty? How much had just been a show to cover their fear of losing one another?

George drew his wand out from the back of his jeans and apparated both him and Fred to the Burrow. Fred looked around delighted to be back home for the first time in months and George squeezed the hand that he was still gripping tightly as everyone made their way into the living room to gather together excitedly. The atmosphere of mourning had turned into one of celebration and Mrs Weasley decided to cook everyone a huge dinner to mark Fred's homecoming. Both twins had hoped to be able to retreat to their room for a moment alone together, but as soon as they got into the living room they were surrounded by their family and crooned over. Fred kept the jokes rolling, while George continued to cling to him quietly, not joining in with Fred's chatter. _How can he keep this up?_ He thought with admiration as Fred started to bring life back into their family. George hadn't let go of him since they had been reunited and Fred didn't want him to, feeling as if he could never let go of his twin again. The physical contact began to soothe George's tumultuous state of emotions; the feel of Fred's skin reinforcing the fact that he really was alive and he felt the grief and emptiness that had clung to him begging to be released. But he knew that the only way it was going to leave was through tears and George didn't want to ruin the celebratory air, so with immense strength of will he kept himself together, reminding himself that Fred too was being strong and banishing everyone's grief with his ever present wit.

Mrs Weasley laid out a sumptuous feast in the kitchen and everyone crowded around the kitchen table together to enjoy it. There was barely enough room for them all but Fred ensured that he and George had chairs next to each other. George had eventually let go of Fred sadly, knowing there was only so long that they could keep a hold of one another in front of their family before it turned from delight at finding his brother alive to something more taboo. He knew of course that Fred's suspicions wouldn't be aroused by touching; they'd always had a platonic desire to be close and especially considering the circumstances he felt that they'd grow even closer than they were before, but nothing could be close enough for George until they had demolished that final wall between them and he knew exactly how Fred felt about their relationship. Possessing the intelligence that he did, he knew that the only sort of thing Fred would be afraid to tell him would be something that could damage their relationship, leading his treacherous mind down a path that made his heart flutter with excitement. _Could he be in love with me too? Everything would make sense if that was the case..._

Even though he hadn't eaten in a week the smell of the food filled George with nausea and he took the minimum possible amount to put on his plate. Fred touched his leg every now and then under the table and he felt him watching him with concern.

"Try some of the cauliflower cheese Georgie," he said quietly under the noise of their family's chatter. George forced a few more mouthfuls down but knew that if he ate anymore that he would be sick. Discreetly he pushed the rest onto Fred's plate who was also lacking in appetite but managing to shove the food down. Mrs Weasley saw George's empty plate and smiled at him approvingly.

"Thank goodness for that George! I was starting to get worried. This is the first thing he's ate in a week Fred!" She said happily.

George winced as he heard Fred drop his fork with a clatter against his plate and turned to make eye contact with his twin. Guilt pooled in his empty stomach as he saw the concern flashing in those beautiful, kind chocolate brown orbs and his twin's pained expression. He looked away, unable to bear the sight of Fred's worry any longer and saw that the coffin had been quietly removed from outside the back door. Fred was sat next to him, there would be no funeral tomorrow, his twin would not be left in the earth to rot; none of it seemed real and he expected Fred to vanish at any moment.

Was it all just a dream?

* * *

The day wore on and the twins still hadn't been able to find an opportunity to retreat to their room; it was quite an impossible task after all to escape when you were the center of attention. Everybody wanted to speak with them and so they sat and exchanged stories from the war. The room was full of gasps as Fred narrated their own epic adventures, from saving the two muggle girls, George's run in with the snatchers, their narrow escape from their shop and the incident with the Dementors.

"Wow, it seems like you two have had just as adventurous a year as us," Ron chuckled.

"You could certainly say that," George said, as everyone's eyes immediately swiveled towards the sound. Fred's chirpy tone had filled the room all afternoon, but George's deeper baritone had only occasionally made a comment; always the much quieter twin he was now close to becoming silent and Fred's worry for him increased tenfold. Through joking and laughing he had managed to temporarily hold off the weight that was crushing his soul, but for how long he could keep this up he didn't know.

"You never told me about the Snatchers!" Mrs Weasley reprimanded them gently.

"We didn't want to worry you," George said as his thoughts turned to the reason that the Snatchers had been able to attack him; his argument with Fred and the way that he had ran from him reeling from his words. _I wish that we weren't twins._ His heart fluttered even more excitedly at the possible meaning behind them; had Fred said that because if they weren't related then they could be in love with each other? He imagined his parents faces if he told them that he was gay and forced back a laugh; he'd been worrying about the incest part so much and had forgotten his Mother's opinion on homosexual relationships.

Eventually they were able to retire for the night and they made their way up to the second floor; Fred had taken George's hand and interlaced their fingers as soon as they had left the living room. George felt warmth spread through him at the feel of Fred's fingers snugly wrapped around his own and squeezed Fred's hand gently. His twin turned to smile at him, a smile that was full of love and affection. George had never seen him smile at anyone else like that; it was a smile that was specially reserved for him. Fred paused at their door and traced the lettering of the sign that they had made fondly, just like George had done at the start of a week that he wanted to try and forget. Smiling at him again Fred pushed the door open, pulling George through and shutting it firmly behind him. He gently took his twin's wand from the back of his jeans and murmured the silencing spell on their door so that they could have more privacy and locked it as well.

"This is a really stupid question and I know the answer, but are you okay?" Fred's eyes were once again full of that pained concern that George had observed whilst they were eating and the sight of that loving worry made George break down completely. He'd held himself together all day and couldn't do it anymore. As he had promised Fred held him while he cried, murmuring words of comfort as George cried over his death.

"I know, but I'm here now and I won't ever have to leave you again. I love you too much to want to leave," Fred whispered to him sweetly as he cupped his face and pulled it up from where it had been buried against his chest to kiss him gently on the mouth. George stopped himself from responding as he would have liked to have done as Fred drew away and paused as if waiting for some reaction, but George was in too much shock and overwhelmed by everything to realise that the kiss had been longer than normal. Nevertheless, the feel of Fred's lips on his was divine and it took all of his strength to repress the urge to push him back onto the bed and snog him senseless. Instead, he buried his face back in his chest as Fred looked around the room at all the signs of his twin's grief from the tissues deposited on the floor and the fact that it was his bed which had been slept in and not George's. He realised that he was sat on something damp and pulled it out from underneath him. It was one of his Christmas jumpers and he lifted it to his nostrils to smell the saltiness of tears.

"George..."He croaked as tears of his own sprung to his eyes.

"Oh yes...sorry about that. I think I cried rather a lot on your jumper," he whispered as he stroked Fred's leg. With a whimper Fred leaned back to rest against the headboard and pulled George into his lap. Wrapping his arms around his twin as close as he could get they both cried together, their tears merging into one stream as they pushed their faces close to the other's.

"I was nothing without you, completely lost" George managed to let out between sobs.

"You don't ever need to worry about me ever again. Ever," Fred repeated as he nuzzled George's nose lovingly.

"You mean everything to me," George stated with fervor. "Everything. I love you."

"And I love you my saint Georgie," Fred murmured against his neck and he rocked him against his body until George's sobs began to subside with his own and they gave each other watery smiles of relief.

"I think we just needed to get everything out of our system eh?" Fred smiled.

"Yeah, how the bloody hell did you manage to laugh and joke for so long like that? I was fucking useless," George mumbled as he kissed his twin's jaw and trailed a path down his chest.

"I don't know. Didn't feel right though without my partner in crime finishing my jokes for me, but as if anybody would expect you to be able to joke and laugh properly yet. I just hope you're not traumatised for life Gred," Fred said drawing him even closer for another cuddle.

"I probably am, but imagine what I would have been like if you _hadn't_ miraculously come back to life. Tell me exactly what happened with Dumbledore Freddie." Fred narrated every word that they had exchanged and George's jaw dropped.

"There's a prophecy about _us?"_ He said, his tone full of wonder and surprise.

"Apparently. God I hope it was one of the ones that survived, perhaps it can tell us more about all this. I always thought that our souls must be connected in some way." Both twins could feel the connection between them; it was magical and beautiful and they wondered why they had not been able to feel it like this before. "It's amazing isn't it? I can literally sense you." George nodded in awe of this newfound magical link that made their bond even stronger. It didn't make them telepathic, but each could feel the other. "What happened to you after we'd been separated? Fred asked, needing to know how George had found out about his death.

"I'm never letting you out of my sight again," George assured him. "Every time we're split up in a battle something bad happens." George told his twin everything that he had missed, including the final showdown with Voldemort. Fred was gleeful that George had taken Yaxley down but distraught when he told him about coming across his body in the wrecked corridor and realised that the pain George had felt in his chest as he was disarmed must have been at the moment that Fred had died. At this point George broke down again, so painful was the memory of finding his twins' body and it had been several minutes before he'd been able to carry on again in faltering tones. Fred had cried too, shuddering at the image of George holding his dead body and tried not to imagine if their positions had been reversed and he had rocked the corpse of his Georgie. George's pain was his pain; they had always been able to emphasise with each other to a remarkable degree.

"Bloody hell, thank god it's all over," Fred sighed with relief.

"Or is it? Quite a few death eaters escaped Freddie, but I suppose at least Voldemort himself is gone and there's no war anymore."

"Well I think we've both seen enough action for a lifetime eh. Harry's been acting a bit awkwardly around us hasn't he? And he didn't exactly roll out the welcome wagon I must say."

"ummmm. I think he's just feeling so guilty about everything and all the pressure has finally got to him. I think we've all got to make some allowances for him, just promise me that you're not going to torture yourself with feeling bad about being given a chance that nobody else has had?" George's brown eyes bored intently into Fred's and he couldn't help but giggle at the intensity of his expression.

"I promise you nutter." Fingers continued to trail over skin and George sighed with contentment, but he wanted more of Fred's skin; he couldn't get enough. He shoved his hands under the same green roll necked top that he'd been wearing too at the battle and pulled it over his head. Fred grinned at him as he emerged tousle haired and George happily snuggled back to him, running his fingers along his bare chest savoring Fred's warmth and trying not to compare it to how cold his body had felt when he had held him in that wreck of a corridor.

Fred gently pushed him off his lap and with shaking fingers unbuttoned George's shirt to reveal his chest. He gasped and stared horrified at how thin he was and trailed his fingers over his protruding collarbone and ribs before pulling it off his arms and running his thumbs over the hipbones that jutted out from above the waistband of his jeans. At least there didn't seem to be any cuts or bruises from the battle that had not been healed.

"You need to eat. Please promise me that you will try. You'll be ill again. How's your head been. Your ear? Has there been any more pain? Any dizziness? Have you washed your ear drum out?" Fred rambled.

"So many questions Mister," George smiled. "I'll try, I promise. I want to live now. It's not been too bad, just a few headaches but I think they were brought on by grief more than anything else Freddie. And oh yes, there was another one; ah no I haven't. Oh don't look at me like that, it's not infected again." Fred had to tilt George's head and brush his hair out of the way to peer into the ear drum. He ran his hands through the soft strands and smiled.

"Wow, grief really worked for your hair. It's grown an inch in a week. Ummm, I can't wait until we have it long and sexy again." A statement which made George burst into giggles.

Now he was no longer examining the dilapidated state of his twin's body, Fred turned his attention to the not one, but two pendants that were around George's neck and smiled as he lifted his G from George's chest, joyful that it was not lost after all.

"I thought I wouldn't see this again," he whispered. Smiling with loving tenderness, George reached behind his neck and unfastened the clasp and placed it back around Fred's neck so that it hung in line with his nipples. He leaned over his shoulder to fasten the clasp and as he withdrew whispered "I love you" in Fred's left ear.

Fred regarded him with adoring, devoted eyes and slipped his arms around his waist again, appreciative that now there was no fabric in the way.

"Erm Freddie. I'm really sorry but I...I.."

"What Georgie. What happened?" Fred slipped a hand back into his hair and cradled the back of his skull. George didn't answer but got off his bed where they were sitting and opened the wardrobe door. Fred watched curiously as he retrieved one of their hats which seemed to contain something and brought it to him. Sitting cross legged opposite Fred, George pushed the contents sorrowfully into Fred's hands and looked away.

"Don't cut yourself," George's voice trembled on the verge of tears and Fred knew exactly what it was, what had happened. He imagined looking into the snow globe and seeing him and George together if George had been the one who had died and knew that it would have driven him insane. What had George seen that had made him smash it in grief?

"I'm sorry. You made that for me..." George's eyes flickered back to his and Fred cupped his face again and kissed his cheek.

"I would have smashed things too. Lots of things believe me. Don't apologise, besides I should be able to fix it. The base is fine, I'll just get some new glass and do the spell again and it'll be as good as new." George thanked him quietly and lifted Fred's hand onto to his leg do that he could look at the watch which he had given him that still adorned his twin's wrist. He wasn't quite sure whether he wanted the snow globe back with the spell on it; the spell that not only showed him beloved memories with Fred but also his most deepest desire. He couldn't let it drive him crazy.

"Perhaps you could find a way to do the spell without the Mirror of Erised bonus this time Freddie?" George suggested gently.

"You didn't see our shop did you?"

"No. Neither did you."

"No." They both looked into each other's eyes hopefully, feeling the wall starting to come down; this was the closest that they had come to confessing.

"I want to tell you George. I'm going to tell you. I will. I just need to get the courage," Fred promised him with another kiss to the cheek.

"I can be patient for a while longer then and perhaps you might be truly happy once you've got it off your chest and stop hating yourself. And you never know I might tell you my secret first," George smiled as he fiddled with Fred's locks of fiery hair and nuzzled their identical noses together again.

"You deserve an explanation for some of my behavior," Fred sighed. "How the hell you've managed to not mention our argument since it happened I'll never know George. And you wonder why I think you're a saint Mister... Wait your secret?" Fred stared at him and George grinned.

"Yes, I've been keeping things from you too, but unlike you I didn't have a neon flashing sign on my head that said 'I'm not telling you something.'" Fred shook his head smiling, but then frowned.

"I knew that there was something wrong besides worrying about me, the war, one of us being killed and everything else, but I didn't know that you had like a really bad 'secret' like mine, but then I guess you've always been good at hiding your pain, even from me who knows you best," he mumbled, drawing George into his arms again. "Hey, I'm not as patient as you so don't leave me hanging," he grinned as George smiled at him.

"Well, I haven't changed my underpants in a week so I think I'll get a clean pair," Fred announced after they had sat quietly together for a few moments, as he stripped his jeans off and pulled some boxers out of the drawer, handing one pair to George and rooting again through the drawer for some pajamas for them both.

"You haven't showered either, but you smell lovely to me," George said affectionately as he stripped off his own jeans. "I've just thought we've never been a different size before."

"No, I'm skinny but you're too thin, underweight George. You will start eating again right, even if it's just little amounts?"

"Of course I will," George promised him again. He couldn't help but watch as Fred let his pants fall to the floor and stepped out of them as he was now completely naked.

_He's so beautiful,_ George thought as he took in his twin's form whilst pulling on a top; gazed at the long, slender, elegant legs and the slim waist. Fred was stood with his back to him, but turned giving George a good view of everything. George was enamored by the one part of Fred's body that he had never really touched before; it seemed that they weren't completely identical there he thought smiling as Fred began to pull on some clothes. He imagined touching it, stroking it, tasting it and immediately started to feel aroused, but luckily his member continued to lie flat against his body despite the fact that his very blood seemed to grow warm. Fred caressed his cheek as he took his clothes from him and deposited them in a heap on the floor and pulled back the duvet on George's bed. George climbed into it and Fred snuggled up behind him, so that his body was spooned against his. There had been no question that they would share a bed tonight, as each craved the presence of the other. Fred pulled the duvet up over them both and wrapped his arms around George's waist.

"Goodnight my Georgie. I love you," he said pressing a kiss to the crook of his neck. George rolled over so that they were facing each other and pressed his lips to Fred's soft cheek.

"Goodnight Freddie. I love you too," he sighed happily, but his expression saddened and Fred touched his cheek with concern. "I'm going to wake up tomorrow and you're still going to be here right?"

"Of course sweetheart, this isn't a dream. It's real," Fred promised him, running a hand up and and down his spine.

"Good, because every time that I woke up this week I thought that you dying... was just a dream and then I realised... it wasn't, but what if this _is_ a dream and you're not real and we're not even really having this conversation. Nothing has felt real all day." A tear slid down his cheek and Fred gently wiped it away, drawing George closer to his body he took his hand and placed it against his chest where George could feel the steady beat of his heart.

"Real," he whispered as he held him. George nodded, as happiness flooded through him with the knowledge that he and Fred were going to spend the rest of their lives together. As they began to drift off to sleep, feeling safe and secure in each other's arms, a wonderful thought drifted into George' mind. _He's never called me sweetheart before._ He heard Fred's breathing become more shallow and he emitted a few grunts, knowing that he was safely asleep George let his hand trail down Fred's back to cup his buttocks lightly and as he did so Fred murmured contentedly in his sleep. As sleep took hold of George, he smiled with true joy to know that they had overcome fate, scorned death and possibly, just possibly they could also together disregard the opinion of society that two brothers should not love each other so completely. They were twin souls, they were supposed to be together: how could anybody question that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, the twins are reunited! There are still plenty of chapters to come though to explore everything else that happens after the war. I'm not sure whether to put them all here or do a sequel, as the word count is getting quite high now; but at the moment I'm leaning more towards putting everything here. If you'd prefer a sequel do let me know. Thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, and left kudos on the story!


	27. The Day of Reckoning

Fred awoke early the following morning; nothing that had happened to him in the past week seemed real, just a nightmare. But as he slowly pushed away the drowsy slumber of sleep he realised that it was all real. His and George's fear of losing one another had occurred, but here he was...alive. Both his mind and heart felt overwhelmed from Dumbledore's words in that strange white place between life and death and the emotional burden that he still carried. If it had been a real physical burden, Fred knew that he would be bent over double from the crushing weight of his forbidden love for his twin and guilty conscience. Life which had once been so simple for Fred had become more complicated than he could ever have imagined.

The feel of George still wrapped warmly around him was a strong enough force to make him resolutely push his fears away and he tenderly caressed his twin's cheek. His face was still imprinted with the remnants of grief and Fred felt more guilt pooling in his stomach at what George had suffered. His burdens refused to be ignored; it was exhausting work laughing and joking for his family when in reality he was not happy at all. George knew this, knew that every joke had been a pretense to soothe their family's pain and Fred hated himself even more for adding to George's concern for him. It was out of the question that he would be able to pretend that he was okay again: Fred had no more jokes to give. He remembered that he'd promised to tell his twin everything soon and regretted that he'd done so. He didn't want to lose this beautiful intimacy between them when George was alerted to his feelings. But then he thought about how loving every touch had been last night, the way that George had looked at him through those kind, gentle eyes, and couldn't help but wonder whether George's secret was the same as his own, but quickly banished this suggestion; the idea was too wonderful to be true. Fred marveled how blurred the line between platonic and romantic love was; what were they? They were certainly more than brothers, more than typical twins even as a smile curved his lips at the sight and feel of his twin pressed as close as he could possibly get. Fred let his hands drift to George's lower back and slip underneath his pajama top to touch the soft skin. Warmth immediately spread into the fingertips that was making contact with George's skin and through the rest of his body. They had a primal need to be together, to be close, and he began to doubt that any confession could be strong enough to take away from that need. George would always want and need him regardless of his disgusting feelings, so why was he still terrified of telling him?

George yawned and snuggled even closer if that was actually possible. Fred smiled at his peaceful expression, a world away from the pain that had been there yesterday, but Fred knew that his beloved twin would never be happy until he was, making Fred feel obliged to tell him everything. He couldn't assume that George would hate him at all; how could he think that of such a wonderful person? For the first time Fred realised what an injustice he had being doing his twin; but he still felt desperately ashamed to tell him.

George began to stir and Fred shuffled his body so that he was leaning over him, ensuring that George would see him as soon as he opened his eyes. It had felt like a stab to the heart when George had confessed his fear that the events of yesterday were just a dream and that he would wake up to find Fred gone; he was determined to break that fear before it had chance to manifest itself. Slowly, George's eyelids flickered open revealing those perfect chocolate orbs that Fred loved so much.

"Good morning Georgie," Fred whispered as he stroked his cheek tenderly. George smiled at him overjoyed and threw his arms around Fred's neck to lay their foreheads together.

"You're still here," he murmured.

"I told you that I would be," Fred smiled. "Not even death can take me away from you." George matched Fred's smile; before that moment they had never looked more identical as both smiled at each other with a potent sense of relief that somehow the worst had happened, but here they were waking up together as if none of it had happened. Ultimately they had come through in one piece, minus an ear of course. But George knew that he would never forget that week from hell and neither would Fred; the pain of thinking that your other half was dead forever was too powerful to be ignored easily.

"Never leave me again," George said quietly; his voice revealing the agony that he had suffered.

"Never. I can't begin to tell you enough how sorry I am for what you've been through. I spent so much time worrying about losing you that I forgot to think about the possibility of _me_ dying." Fred's arms were wrapped tightly around George's waist; they were so close that they were sharing air, breathing together as one symbiotic being.

"It was hell," George continued quietly. "I couldn't function by myself, we've always thought in terms of 'we', 'our' and 'us'; I didn't know how to be just George, to accept that I wasn't a Weasley Twin anymore, that there was no more Fredngeorge. That hurt the most Freddie... I'm not me without you. I didn't know who I was; I just felt so empty." His voice trailed off and Fred could tell by the distant look in his eyes that he was becoming lost in the terrible memories of being alone and believing Fred to be gone. He shook him gently, saving him from the clutches of the depression that was trying to reel him in and trap him in its lonely depths. The distant look quickly faded from the feel of Fred shaking him and ghosting his fingers lightly over his cheek, bringing him back to the world, away from the nightmare and back into reality. Fred was alive, those memories could not harm him as long as he focused on that simple fact. The week of mourning and unbearable suffering would be nothing as long as he kept that in mind and didn't allow the painful thoughts to consume him. He didn't need to think about what his life would have been like without Fred; his twin was here. He didn't need to think about the funeral even, because there never was going to be a funeral; Fred was here. His brain struggled to separate the realities from the dreams, the memories from the present. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and he knew that it would take time to sort it all out, to move forward and accept what had happened.

"It's going to be okay my Georgie. I'm here... I'll always be here. Remember that nothing can take me; we're twin souls. Don't let those thoughts take you, I don't want to lose you like that. Your eyes look so empty, like you're half dead," Fred said sadly, running a hand through his hair.

The sight of Fred's sadness roused George from the stupor that he was nearly once again trapped in and he strove to banish the darkness that threatened to take him.

"I nearly went mad," he whispered. "I could literally feel my sanity slowly going. You won't lose me like that; it's just going to take some time for me to get my head around everything. I had to accept that you were gone and now you're back and my brain just can't process it." George's eyes had lost their emptiness and his hands moved over Fred's face; the feel of his skin sending light to dispel the darkness in his core.

"I'll help you, make you happy again," Fred promised him.

"But you're not happy either." George's eyes bored into Fred's with that shrewd, calculating look that Fred knew so well. He could never hide anything from his other half; George always knew when something was wrong. "Don't try and pretend to be today Freddie, you're bloody exhausting yourself;" the concern that filled Fred with guilt could again be seen in George's eyes as he stared into Fred's intently.

"I can't do that George. I have to make them happy. I have to make jokes and laugh, that's what they need. They won't understand why if I don't; they don't know that I'm bloody depressed and I don't really want anybody else to know. They'll just keep asking what's wrong and make it worse if you know what I mean." Fred sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration and smiled ruefully at him. "We've changed a lot haven't we?"

"Yeah, war changes everyone, but I never imagined that it would change us this much, but I suppose you can't live life to the full like we have always done if you're worrying about the person who means everything to you being taken; but then again that fear has always been there. We've just been trying to ignore it with as much noise as possible." George's gaze was tender as he cupped Fred's face with his elegant, long fingered hands and regarded him with a gaze that Fred had never seen before. It was passionate, yet tender and seemed to Fred to be a reflection of the way that he himself had watched George in the storeroom that time. For the first time they both saw something in each other's eyes that hinted at what they felt for each other; the energy between them sparkled and crackled with intensity. For that one moment the wall was removed and they saw into the depths of each other souls and knew exactly what they both wanted, a fleeting glimpse of how much the other _really_ loved them.

"Freddie I-"

"Twins! Breakfast is ready dears!" Fred wanted to groan aloud with frustration, as with the sound of their Mother's penetrating voice, George had jumped back; his courage broken. The wall was there again, but each twin had hope for how the other felt; but could never truly believe what they had seen in each other's eyes without the solid force of words to banish the last vestiges of doubt and uncertainty.

"We're coming Mum," George yelled back. Fred noted the disappointment in his eyes, as they'd come so close only to move back again when the world made itself felt. He took Fred's hand and pulled them both out of bed. As he moved towards the door, Fred tugged him back remembering suddenly that he had not yet enquired about his wand.

"Wait a min Georgie, I meant to ask you if you knew what happened to my wand."

George turned and Fred saw that his expression was sad, his stomach plummeted and he knew before George had even gone to the table in between their beds and removed his jacket from the top of it what he would see beneath. His wand was in pieces; Fred knew that wands in that state couldn't be repaired.

"I'm sorry Freddie," George's voice was heavy and he slipped an arm around his waist as Fred picked up several of the pieces and turned them over in his hands.

"What chance did a flimsy bit of wood have if I was pounded like a piece of meat," he tried to laugh, but it emerged as a strangled sob. "Being silly...it's just a wand," he gasped as George held him from behind.

"No you're not, they were twin wands. I'm sad too. You can share mine until we get you a new one," George said quietly.

"It won't be the same with a different wand," Fred muttered.

"No. I could try and fix it; it might work," George suggested in a false hopeful tone.

"George it won't," Fred said, but regardless he picked up his own wand from the chest of drawers and pointed it at the broken pieces.

"Reparo!" To both twins' amazement the splinters of wood that comprised the stem of the wand drew together as if magnetically attracted and fused into one again, before attaching to the handle. Smiling, George picked it up and handed it to Fred, suppressing a shiver of the thought of them becoming one like they were always meant to be.

"Try a spell." Fred nodded and pointed it at the rumpled duvet, which miraculously spread itself back neatly over the bed. He turned to grin at George.

"Twin souls, twin wands," he smiled. "I am partially happy you know-"

"Because neither of us can be killed-"

"While the other still lives, it's just-"

"Your secret-"

"Yeah." They exchanged tender smiles, even after a week of separation they had quickly fallen into their habit of finishing each other's sentences; the war had altered them without a shadow of a doubt, but there were some things that could never be changed. They would always be in sync and forever share this special connection between them regardless of the worries and fears that had tried to come between them.

Together they left their room and descended the stairs two at a time, aware that everybody was probably starting to wonder where they were. It was with the utmost reluctance that they had separated from each other's bodies; the need to be touching was more demanding than it had ever been before and screamed to be satisfied. Indeed their family was already gathered in the kitchen staring hungrily at their plates, as the twins crossed the room to take their seats; the stone tiles feeling cold on their bare feet. Harry and Hermione were firmly considered as part of the family now; their addition with Fleur meant that their large family had become even bigger and they both knew that their Mother was probably expecting it to continue to expand. She had no idea though that the twins had no intentions of contributing to this expansion; George could imagine only too well what her face would be like when they confessed to her that neither of them wanted to provide her with another two daughter in laws.

"Morning guys," they spoke in unison. To their dismay their 'twinspeak' had their Mother sobbing heartily into her apron.

"Oh, I thought I'd never hear you speaking at the same time ever again or ever get to call you 'twins' again. It would have been just George." They both scooted around the overcrowded table to hug her whilst Ron smirked at them.

"Well personally I always found it rather annoying, especially when you finished each other's sentences. It's like watching a tennis match," he grinned, expecting Fred to make some witty reply. But George just gave him a weak smile and they both took their seats; Fred pouring them both some juice and George buttering them some toast. Throughout breakfast the twins were silent, lost in their thoughts but partially comforted by the occasional light touch underneath the table, only speaking when someone directed a question at one or both of them. Ron became gradually more and more disappointed as he waited hopefully for Fred to pick up from where he had left off yesterday and provide a steady stream of jokes to raise everyone's spirits on a day that was going to be decidedly sad with the funeral of Remus and Tonks and the memorial service in the afternoon. He'd even hoped that George would join in now that he'd had some time to take everything in and that everything could be as it was supposed to be. Ron was not the only one to notice how quiet they were, everybody was watching them with concern wondering what could be troubling them now that they had each other back.

"You're quiet today Fred," Rom remarked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"I've been quieter for the past nine months Ron, you just haven't been around us to see."

"Oh, you seemed your usual self yesterday," he said staring intently at his brother. Fred wished that he could simply sink into the floor to escape the many eyes that were now observing him with curiosity.

"He was just being a saint and cheering you all up," George interjected. Fred shot him a look of pure gratitude as all attention turned to George, who only just realised that he was sitting opposite Harry who instantly averted his gaze. He would have felt angry if he had dwelled on the thought that Harry was treating him like _he_ was in the wrong, but Harry clearly couldn't meet his eyes from guilt, leaving George to wonder whether they'd ever be friends again. Not a single word had Harry spoken to him in all the time that they were gathered together after they had returned with Fred, only a handful had he exchanged with Fred. George felt that it was only a matter of time until Fred pressed him for more information about Harry's behavior and couldn't help but smile at what his twin's reaction would be like.

"Oh," Ron looked utterly taken aback by the idea that the twins could have changed. They had always appeared to be indefatigable, relentless in their jokes and pranks and he was deeply affected by the thought that Fred and George were not the people that they were when he had last seen them at the wedding; but the change had begun when George was injured. It marked the moment when no amount of noise could hide the fear that had always been a part of them; George had expected the fear to finally leave when Fred had relayed Dumbledore's words to him but it had stubbornly stayed put. He supposed that there was more than one way of losing someone and what if their bond only protected them against accidental death? Would it help them against illness?

Mrs Weasley hummed as she dished out more sausages from her frying pan, adding a good quantity of them onto Ron and Charlie's plates, before offering some to the twins who both refused them. George had kept his promise though and had eaten a healthy portion of food; Fred smiled at him approvingly. George smiled back, understanding how concerned his twin had been that he would make himself seriously ill. A week without food had certainly not done his body any good; he was severely underweight and felt so weak and tired.

"George, come over here a minute please sweetheart," Mrs Weasley beckoned him as she placed the frying pan back on the stove. Reluctantly, all too aware that everyone was watching him, he removed his hand from Fred's thigh and pushed his chair back. Mrs Weasley tried not to appear too concerned as her eyes quickly scanned over how thin he was and she regretted not forcing some food down his throat, no matter how much he had protested. She bent down to one of the kitchen cupboards and pulled out a pair of scales that she'd bought from St Mungo's and instructed George to stand on them, who decided that objecting would get him nowhere. If his Mother didn't force him onto the scales then Fred would as he felt his twin's eyes anxiously watching the scales.

"Height: six feet and three inches; build: skinny," the scales spoke in a modulated voice.

"How offensive; I think it meant to say that I have an extremely muscular physique," George said in a jovial tone to many sniggers. He'd forgotten how good it was to joke and as he realised this, the darkness was pushed even further back. Fred was right, everything was going to be okay now.

"It's hard to believe that you were both beaters," Ron smirked at him and George grinned properly, feeling more like his old self again.

"Skill and the benefit of being completely in sync with each other outweighed the negatives ickle Ronniekins," George told him.

"Yeah, confused the hell out of the other teams; it would have seemed like you were everywhere at once," Ron laughed and turned to smile at Hermione who was sat next to him.

"Not to mention that they were the best beaters Hogwarts ever saw," Harry added, making direct eye contact with George for the first time. George saw the apology in his eyes and he smiled back, relieved that they could both just forget what had happened and move on from it. "You could play professionally," Harry continued to smile; he felt that George deserved a far better apology than the one that he had managed to give him, but he felt too ashamed to talk about what he had said.

"Nah, we're a bit out of practice mate," Fred managed to keep a smile plastered on his face, despite the fact that his guilt continued to bore into him like a knife; he had used an unforgivable spell. _I'm a monster._

"Healthy weight," the scales finally concluded; an announcement which took everybody aback aprt from Fred who smirked.

"He's pressing down on the scales," Fred told his Mother.

George sighed and muttered "traitor", which made everybody chuckle. He stopped pushing down and waited for the scales to pronounce sentence. "Severely underweight," Mrs Weasley gasped.

"Oh George, please eat. If you don't we'll have to take you to Saint Mungo's if you don't," she said as George stepped off the scales and winced at Fred's expression. He had known that George was too thin, but hearing it pronounced made it seem worse somehow.

"I will. I promised Fred. I know two sausages, some beans and some toast doesn't seem much to what the pig ate," he grinned nodding at Ron who pretended to look offended.

"Really Ron, how you are not larger than a house is beyond me," George continued to tease him.

"Bag of bones," Ron countered, but without mirth; everybody present was worried about George's weight.

Mrs Weasley turned from the cupboards to address the twins. "Boys do you want to come to Remus and Tonks' funeral today; it's more than understandable if you don't-"

After a brief, silent consultation with each other they both knew that they wanted to go; they wanted to pay their last respects to two people who'd they'd liked well for several years. "Of course we're going to go Mum," George told her. "We're both fine," but despite his words and charismatic smile nobody believed him; it was obvious that the twins were not fine. Their suspicions were proved when George suddenly looked at the kitchen clock and saw what time it was and exhaled sharply; he wrapped his arms around Fred and mumbled "we would have been burying you now." Mrs Weasley rubbed George's back and sniffed. She'd been about to publish the time of the funeral before Professor McGonagall had summoned them to the castle and was overjoyed that she had not had to bury one of her children after all. Fred leapt out of his seat so that he could hold George properly and stroke his hair.

"Just be glad that I didn't keep still and wait until my funeral to surprise you all. That would have been my best prank yet." His words had the desired effect and George burst out laughing as he let go off him and clutched the counter.

"I would have killed you if you'd done that to me," he smiled.

"Ah but Georgie, it wouldn't have done any good."

"No, I can't bump you off if you get on my nerves; bloody hell." Everyone stared at them, completely lost.

"Erm guys, we're all a bit confused here," Ginny said pointedly.

"Oh yeah sorry. The reason that we got our prat back-

"Hey!"

"Our devilishly handsome, fantastically intelligent, hilariously funny Fred back-"

"Now that's much better."

"Is because according to Dumbledore we are twin souls-

"And neither can die while the other lives-"

"Which is a complete bummer because otherwise I would have got the shop to myself-"

"Hey!"

"Are you a horse dear twin?" They both erupted into giggles and smiled at each other affectionately.

"Anyway," Fred continued."He said that our connection is the opposite of Harry and Voldemort's and that there's even a prophecy about us-"

"So we hope that you four and Neville and Luna didn't smash it-"

"Or we shan't speak to any of you ever again," Fred grinned as he concluded.

"You all look a little confused," George smirked, looking from one blank face to another.

"I'm not surprised," Fred chuckled. He repeated Dumbledore's words, although emitting any references that referred to their bond being founded upon their mutual love. (They still had some reputation left after all)

"Oh, wow that's wonderful," Mrs Weasley gasped. "You don't need to worry about each other so much anymore. I always knew you were special!" She seized them both in a hug and as expected bashed both of their heads together.

"Ow!" Mrs Weasley clapped her hands over her mouth and apologised as the twins rubbed each other's heads grimacing.

"We have bloody hard heads," George grinned. Fred slipped an arm arm around George's waist and excused them so that they could get dressed, as he noticed that they were the only ones still clad in their nightwear and looking slightly disheveled. George couldn't help but think how sexy Fred looked with his fiery hair slightly missed up from sleep; he just wished that his chocolate orbs had their usual sparkle to match. As soon as they had left the room there was silence as everybody processed the twins' alternating behavior, one minute they were silent and sad and the next they were a echo of their old exuberant selves.

"Them pair are even odder than they were before," Ron finally broke the thoughtful silence.

"Ron! Don't you see? They were just trying to laugh so we didn't think anything was wrong," Ginny tried to explain to him.

"Yeah, we shouldn't all be surprised that they're different," Percy nodded. "Nobody could go through what George did and not have it effect them."

"Yeah, I get why George would still be a bit sad, but what's up with Fred?" Ron insisted with his usual lack of tact.

"Do you really think that Fred could see George that upset and just pretend that everything was normal. George being upset would make him Fred sad." Ginny stared at him incredulously and Ron looked slightly sheepish.

"Yeah, he'd be upset too," Ron nodded.

"They just need time," Mrs Weasley said as she began to clear the table. "We can't expect them to entertain us all the time, it's not fair on them if they don't feel up to it."

"Very true Molly," Arthur said as he got up and kissed his wife on the forehead. "They didn't seem like their usual selves when we were at Aunt Muriels, but they were probably just worried," he frowned.

"No wonder they weren't, living with that old bat," Charlie snorted.

"Charles!" Mrs Weasley reprimanded him. "She was very good to us. No, I can't help but wonder whether it was all just an act. Do we even know our twins at all?"

"Well they're getting all philosophical now," Fred smiled with his ear to the door, straining to make out the low conversation that was taking place in the kitchen. "They're wondering whether we were just pretending to be so happy and full of life."

George shook his head and smiled. "Where's our Oscar then if it's taken them 20 years to figure it out? No, they just haven't really seen this side to is before; we let the jokesters in us dominate everything."

"Well I just hope that they like that side of us Georgie; the softer side," Fred said thoughtfully.

"They will," George said with an air of confidence as they moved away from the door and returned to their room.

They dressed in their suits from the wedding, as in the wizarding world completely black clothing at funerals was not an established custom as in the muggle world. Surprisingly after much scrubbing and the use of a particularly strong stain removal potion the blood had been removed from George's purple waistcoat, but it hung slightly loosely on his thinner figure. Fred fastened the buttons on his bright yellow waistcoat and felt that a deep black would have been more reflective of his soul at the moment, as he handed George one of the black jackets that had a slight shimmer to them. The Weasley twins had never aspired to be cool, but nobody could deny that their style was sophisticated, in their own way of course. George fumbled with the his purple silk tie with stiff fingers and Fred moved to help him; they tried to avoid each other's eyes but eventually they were forced to meet having looked anywhere but directly at each other and there it was again, that look that was hard to describe, but nevertheless it made each twin's stomach flutter with anticipation. Fred pushed the tie to the top of his twin's collar and allowed himself to brush his cheek lightly before stepping back.

"Angelina apologised for what happened you know in Hogsmeade," George informed him lightly. "She really regretted being a bit of a bitch and was really upset when she saw you dead. They all were."

"They'll think that they're hallucinating at the funeral if they're going," he tried to smile, but felt nervous at the prospect of talking with Angelina again. Would their encounter end in another argument? George was also lost in thought as his mind drifted back to the Yule Ball; he'd gone up to bed ahead of his twin as he and Angelina had stayed for the final dance to 'Magic Works'. He wondered whether they'd kissed then, they certainly must have done a couple of times when they had finally decided to date in their final year, however brief it was. For some reason unlike most teenage boys they had tried to avoid talking about sex as much as possible with each other, sure they'd laughed with Lee over some naughty magazines that their friend had managed to get his hands on, but they'd never really discussed it like other boys did. George even began to wonder whether he and Angelina had gone all the way; he hated the idea. He wanted to be Fred's first and last; was that what Fred wanted too?

They rejoined their family downstairs as the funeral was not for another hour and talk quickly turned to Bill and Fleur's wedding, as the trio wanted to know desperately what had happened after they had left. Fred's heart began to thud, what would they think when they were told about him being the reason that George had been tortured?

"And then Yaxley used the Cruciatus Curse on George, Rookwood was there as well; nobody else was hurt," Bill told them, leaving out the circumstances as he glanced at his younger brother's guilt ridden face. Harry, Hermione and Ron all gasped, their expressions horrified as they turned to George with widened gazes.

"Rookwood?" Percy too looked horrified and he exchanged a significant look with Fred. "That's the bastard who caused the explosion!"

Ron felt relief though to learn that it wasn't Dolohov who had been the cause of Fred's death. If his had been the name uttered, Ron knew that he never would have forgiven himself for leaving the death eater and his companion alive when they had surprised them in the muggle cafe after escaping from the wedding.

"He...really didn't like us then," George joked feebly, but his expression quickly darkened. "He'd better fucking hope that he gets sent to Azkaban, because if he doesn't I'm going to bloody kill the fucker."

"Georgie, language please," Mrs Weasley begged. "He'll get what he deserves for hurting our Freddie." George muttered something under his breath about prison being too good for him and turned to gaze at his twin; his murderous thoughts quickly evaporate at the sight of the guilty imprinted deeply onto Fred's face and he knew exactly what he was thinking about. _Oh Freddie. I thought we had got past this?_

"God George how did you stand that with you being already injured?" Ron's tone was full of admiration; the twins had never realised what an inspiring force they had been for their younger siblings as Ginny too looked awed at his strength of mind. His answer was curtailed as Fred excused himself to the toilet in a voice that was close to breaking and George watched him nearly run from the room; the majority of those present guessed what was wrong but the trio remained confused.

"I bet it was awful for Fred seeing that," Hermione filled the silence. "But why did he look so guilty."

George sighed with frustration. "He blames himself because he was laughing at Yaxley and he 'punished' me to teach Fred a lesson." Ron's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head, no wonder Fred had looked so guilty he thought.

Tears streamed from Fred's eyes as he fled to the bathroom. How he hated every miserable inch of himself! He'd hurt George again and again, he'd killed somebody, he was consumed by filthy thoughts. What kind of sicko was he to want sex with his twin brother? He deserved all the pain and misery he thought, everything that he;d suffered was well deserved the voice in his head said. Fred listened to that voice, agreed with everything that it told him. _I'm a horrible person._

Fred obeyed the cruelty of the voice as it told him that he deserved more pain, that it couldn't believe that for the first time in months that a whole day had passed without him hurting himself. It told him that he needed to make up for that; he couldn't escape his punishment. As if in a trance Fred drew out his wand from the inside pocket of his jacket, shrugged it off and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to the elbows. His hand shook as he pointed the wand at the creamy white skin; he couldn't bear anymore pain physical or emotional but he had to obey the voice. _I deserve it..._

He made a quick slashing movement with his wand and a deep cut three inches long was embedded into the underside of his arms; a rivulet of blood oozed from the cut and ran down to his hand. He grimaced at the pain, sobbing now, but somehow it felt good. It had temporarily freed some of the crushing guilt every time that he had cut himself; it was the only form of relief that he had found. More and more cuts were inflicted on the soft skin and tears coursed down Fred's cheek as he cried from the pain, but still he felt the urge to inflict more on himself and soon both arms were streaming with blood. He realised with a start that he'd cut his wrists; no wonder there was so much blood; he'd never cut there before. It was strangely satisfying to watch the bright, crimson blood seeping from his veins, but at the same time he was flooded with dizziness and the sight of the blood was starting to make him feel sick. Fred didn't register that the bathroom door was opening until it was too late.

"Freddie are you okay?... Oh fuck. Fred! What the hell? Oh my God! What have you done? Why?" George's voice wobbled and tears escaped from his eyes as he regarded the hellish scene in front of him with pure horror. Fred was crouched on the floor whimpering and George ran to his side and wrestled the wand out of his grasp, deeply regretting that he'd mended it only so that his twin could do this. George panicked at the sight of so much blood and quickly drew out his own wand and pointed it at Fred's arms.

"Vulnera Sanentur. Vulnera Sanentur. Vulnera Sanentur." His wand hovered over each gash and the bleeding stopped, knitting the skin neatly back together, but there was still blood all over the bathroom floor and on Fred's arms and hands. George's tears mingled with the blood as he tilted Fred's chin up to meet his distraught gaze and saw the depths of pain and self hatred in his twin's eyes. Kneeling by his side he drew Fred into his arms and rocked him gently, murmuring softly to him as with a flick of his wand he cleaned the blood away and continued to hold his suffering twin. Fred had hidden the full extent of his depression, but here it was, raw and fully exposed.

"Why?" George cupped Fred's cheek and drew Fred's face close to his; their faces were identically covered in tears and their jaws trembled with the force of their sobs. Fred gasped and slipped his arms around George's neck; he was shaking with such intensity that George wrapped him in his arms as if trying to hold him together, but Fred was in pieces. Now their positions were reversed and George was the comforter, as he rocked him again and waited patiently until the shaking had ceased somewhat.

"Why?"

"I hate myself so much George. I hurt you; I killed...I." Fred's voice trailed away and his eyes burnt with shame.

"You what. I don't understand."

"At the battle, I used the killing curse. I'm a monster. I hurt you at the wedding, you never would have been attacked by Snatchers if I hadn't said those awful things to you even though I didn't mean them. I'm disgusting..."

"No, you're not. You're wonderful. Oh Freddie, why didn't you tell me that you were hurting so much," George sobbed, as Fred snuggled into his chest.

"I didn't want you to know, to hurt you even more like you are now," he whispered. George pressed open mouthed kisses to his cheek and neck and Fred let him, enjoying the feel even though the voice was telling him to push George away, that he didn't deserve this comfort, but the voice had no authority when George was there.

"You silly man," George chided. "Did you not think that I could have helped you. It doesn't matter that you killed a death eater; I'm sure many people did Freddie. It was a battle."

"Yeah, but none of the Order would have used an unforgivable curse. It makes me one of them," Fred insisted.

"No, you are a good person. You're not one of them; you didn't do anything wrong, it was a war. And it wasn't your fault what happened at the wedding. Let it go...please. Forgive yourself. It wasn't your fault that some Snatchers happened to get me after our fight, it was just unlucky. Don't hurt yourself anymore." Fred nodded and nuzzled his nose into George's neck and ran his still trembling fingers into his twin's hair as they sat in a heap on the floor.

"You're not having this back until I can trust you with it," George said firmly as he slipped Fred's wand inside his jacket pocket. Fred nodded again, willing to do whatever George told him.

"Confiscating it are we until I can behave," he teased, trying to smile and George caressed his face, smiling too, but his smile quickly faded away and he regarded Fred with trepidation.

"This isn't the first time that you've cut yourself is it?" Fred met those chocolaty brown orbs and wished desperately that he could assure him that it was the first time that he'd done this, but George deserved the truth, no matter how painful that truth was.

"No," he shook his head and George tried to keep the tears from falling, tried to keep himself together for Fred's benefit. "I'm sorry Georgie...I don't know what's happening to me."

"I'm here. Always, like you're always there for me. Promise me that you won't hurt yourself again...Please," George waited for several seconds before prompting him again.

"I promise," Fred replied heavily. "But it was the only escape I had for all the guilt."

"You've got me now, you don't need to do this." George thought for a moment, wondering what else Fred hadn't been telling him as he found other instances where he hadn't been convinced that Fred was being honest with him. "At the wedding, the death eaters. You told me that they didn't hurt you, but the more I think about it, the more I think that you were lying then as well.

Shame crept over Fred's face and he nodded. "Yeah, they used the cruciatus curse on me. I didn't tell you because I didn't deserve any comfort after what I did to you."

"The death eaters did that to me not you. I wish that you had told me. We've never lied to each other before," George said sadly as images of Fred screaming as he was tortured filled his mind and he suppressed a shudder. He had to be strong for Fred, he couldn't look after him if he allowed himself to break down too.

"I know. I'm sorry. This mess is all my fault, not yours. I promise I won't ever lie to you again," Fred's eyes bored into George's, he looked like a lost child as George cuddled him close to his body. "I know you, don't think about the death eaters hurting me, you've already been worrying about me enough. And besides that was nothing compared to..." He trailed off realising too late that George hadn't asked him about what dying was like because Percy must have told him that it had been instant, that a rock must have hit him on the head and that was it.

"It hurt didn't it," George's voice was nothing but a broken whisper as he stared at his twin even more horrified than he was before. "Either Percy lied to me or he was too dazed and didn't realise how long it took him to go over to...you."

"Yeah, it was a tadge awful," Fred tried to smile, hoping that George would find his understatement funny, but instead he cried harder and cuddled Fred closer to his body.

"Oh Freddie," he gasped. "Tell me."

"It was terrifying... I knew that I was dying, leaving you and our family... I thought that I'd never see you again, but there was nothing I could do... I was so scared George... it was lonely." They were comforting each other now as for George the image of Fred suffering alone like that was too much to bear and they cried in each others arms, but both managing to suppress the sobs that wanted to be wails so that their family didn't come running and find them on the floor like this.

As George soothed Fred and promised him that everything was going to be okay now, he couldn't help but feel disappointed that this was Fred's secret; the reason that he'd closed off from him was due to his depression and guilt over the nightmare at the wedding. But as George's hopes that Fred could ever return his feelings sank, he realised that everything still didn't make sense. None of what Fred had told him explained why he thought he was disgusting, the occasional awkwardness when they touched each other, why he thought that George would want nothing to do with him if he told him what had been bothering him. He thought back to their argument in the autumn, yes Fred had definitely said that when he'd apologised for their fight. What Fred had told him seemed like nothing but minor points; the main piece was still missing.

"Fred, George. We need to leave now or we're going to be late," their Mother called them. This time it was George who was groaning in frustration; he and Fred still had so much that they needed to talk about. Gently he pulled Fred off the bathroom floor and wiped at his face, but it was blotchy and his eyes were puffy; there was no way that he'd be able to hide that he'd been crying. That they'd both been crying he thought, as he caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror, but George took a deep breath and managed to compose itself. "Coming Mum," he said in an even tone, as he drew Fred to the sink and splashed cold water on both of their faces.

"We're still going to be close like normal aren't we?" Fred asked worriedly, even though I've lied to you so much?"

"Of course we are Freddie," George assured him with a loving look as he rubbed his twin's back soothingly. "I'm not angry, just sad."

"That's worse," Fred muttered as George drew him close again.

* * *

The grief was palpable as the mourners quietly filed into the rows of chairs that had been laid out on the grassy verge. Despite the gravity of the occasion, the day could not have been more beautiful as the dark shade cast over the skyline by Voldemort had been banished, and now for the first time in months the spring sun shone brightly illuminating the tears that were present on many faces of those who had gathered to witness the burial of Remus and Nymphadora Lupin. Andromeda Tonks could be seen sobbing at the front by the coffins as she cradled a tiny infant to her chest. Her husband, daughter and son in law where all gone; all that she had left was this small baby to remember them by. The twins' group of friends were sat together in a row near the back, talking together in low voices as they expressed their confusion that Fred's funeral had not been held that morning as had been originally planned.

"I think I'll go round later and see George. I don't expect that he'll be coming," Lee said. "Perhaps it's going to be tomorrow instead, we can ask Mrs Weasley when we see her." The others nodded and fell into silence as the rows began to fill up and the wizard who would be conducting the ceremony walked to the front, clad in black billowing robes; over the last few days he had conducted more funerals than he had ever wanted to see over such a short space of time and a good number of them had been too young to die, making them all the more heart wrenching.

The last to arrive were the Weasley family who took seats close to the back, sitting down quietly and trying to attract as little attention as possible. Only the black clad wizard noticed their arrival and he didn't think anything of the fact that two of the arrivals were identical twins. Fred didn't want to detract from the dignity of Remus and Tonks' funeral by drawing attention to the fact that he was somehow alive when they were still dead; out of respect he intended to keep as low a profile as possible, but knew that at some point the hue was going to be raised. He didn't know how he was going to deal with all the attention, for most of his life he had basked in it but now all he wanted to do was hide from everybody, less they see the secret that he was still keeping. The guilt had been partially eased though by confessing some of the truth to his twin, who was sat by his side as expected; their arms linked together. He occasionally turned to smile at Fred to check how he was doing and Fred attempted a smile back. Fred deeply regretted how George had discovered what he'd been doing to himself and he swore to himself that he would never try to escape the guilt like that again; he would keep his promise to his twin, he didn't want to hurt him again as the image of George's face when he had entered the bathroom filled him with pain. As the minister began to conduct the funeral he noticed George clenching his right hand and knew that he was imagining the horror that would have been his funeral; Fred took his right hand in his and squeezed it gently, reminding him that he was here sat next to him, and not in a coffin.

Not a face was free from tears as the minister praised the lives of Remus and Tonks and urged those gathered to never forget the sacrifice that they had made so people could live without the shadow of Voldemort hanging over them. The minister requested that everybody stand and with a flick of his wand the rows of chairs vanished as people began to gather around the graves. Many of the Weasley family moved closer and several people parted respectfully to let them through, knowing that Remus and Tonks had become close friends of Mr and Mrs Weasley. Fred and George stayed at the back, hoping that nobody would turn and see Fred stood there at such a moment. A soft music began to play, its mournful air was such that it effected everybody present, as the coffins began to lower slowly into the ground. They disappeared into the earth and with another wave of the minister's wand grassy mounds covered each of them. It was over. Remus and Tonks were gone. The finality of it struck George deeply and he took a deep calming breath to steady himself, remembering Lupin's kindness during their fifth year at school when the discovery of their Boggarts had left them both reeling and Tonks' smiling face as she changed her looks for their entertainment. So many people had been lost, so many and Fred for a short while had been one of their number. Tears were pouring down Harry's face as he was confronted with the loss of yet another of his father figures; he may not have seen Remus often but Harry would carry the lessons that he had taught him for the rest of his life.

As people made signs of beginning to move away from the graves Fred and George walked further up the grass verge and into the trees so that they could not be spotted. Many people were still crying as they made their way to the Marquee where the wake was about to take place.

"Do you want to go in or shall we go home?" George asked Fred quietly, their arms now wrapped around each other's slim waists.

"Yeah, let's go in. People are going to find out that I'm alive at some point. I just don't want people to think that I'm trying to usurp Remus and Tonks' day," Fred said as he looked towards the marquee.

"I'm sure they won't; they should appreciate that you want to pay your respects too. You're not exactly rubbing their loss in people's face just by being here Freddie," George tried to soothe his concerns. "Are you sure you're up for this?" George reached a hand towards Fred's face and trailed his fingers down his right cheek; Fred leaned into the touch and smiled tenderly at him. George repeated the movement and then drew him into his arms for a brief cuddle; Fred clung to him and drew comfort from the feel of George pressed so close to him. His face was still a mask of misery, but he knew that George was not going to let him become lost in depression again. His twin was there for him, like he always had been. The desire to tell him just how much he really loved him became more potent that before, but he restrained himself and they began to walk towards the marquee.

"Not much chance that people aren't going to notice us really is there?" George chuckled.

"No mate. Taller than most people, ginger and identical doesn't really help us to fade into the background," Fred smiled with his mouth, but not with his eyes. He knew that he would never truly be happy again, unless George returned his feelings, that was how much he wanted to be with him.

"You're forgetting the fourth one in your case Freddie," George grinned mischievously. This time the smile did reach Fred's eyes and George was delighted to see this, as Fred was relieved to see that slowly George was recovering from the devastation wrought by the final battle.

"Oh and what would that one be," Fred slipped his arm through George's again and his twin winked at him. The naughtiness in that wink had Fred feeling like he was going to melt and end up as a puddle at George's feet. _I want you so much._

"Beautiful," he whispered, again reaching to briefly touch Fred's cheek. Never before had he been so deeply touched as he detected adoration, devotion and love in George's voice. Fred was stunned and he blinked several times with a wide smile on his face, as George smiled too and gently tugged him into the tent. He wished that he could believe George's words, but he was still convinced that he was a horrible human being; regardless however of how he felt about himself he knew that in his twin's eyes he was beautiful. And okay, perhaps he couldn't help being a _little_ swayed by George. _Perhaps I'm not that bad._ George's heart and mind were both set upon seeing the happiness that one single word had given Fred, when they got home he was going to tell Fred that he loved him. _Would telling him that make him happier?_ George was full of anticipation as he waited for that moment of reckoning.

Mrs Weasley was waiting for them by the entrance to the marquee; her eyes swiftly scanned over Fred's face. She had been dismayed when the twins had come back downstairs and it had been so clear that Fred had been crying, but he was smiling slightly now and she felt reassured that if anybody could cure Fred of his depression that George could.

"Are you both okay," she fussed over them as she straightened George's tie and tweaked Fred's hair.

"We're fine Mum, honestly," George said in a persuasive tone.

"I'm so worried about you two," she confessed as she beckoned them to follow her.

Sure enough, the twins had not long been in the tent when people began to point at them, utterly confused and at first believing that they were seeing double. One woman approached Mrs Weasley and enquired gently which son had died. "I was sure that it was one of your twins," she said.

"Fred!?" Lee Jordan pushed past a chattering group of people and looked from one twin to the other gobsmacked. "Is that you?"

"No, this is James. I've found Fred's replacement already you see," George joked. Lee threw himself at Fred and hugged him tightly, only coming up to just below Fred's shoulder. Angelina and the rest of their friends also pushed past the now annoyed group that was close by to hug Fred excitedly. The room fell silent as now everybody was staring at them. George stepped in front of Fred and Lee, trying to shield his twin from the stares that he knew would unsettle him.

"How?" Angelina's face was gobsmacked.

"I...I just woke up," Fred shrugged, hoping that no in depth explanation would be necessary. Their friends seemed to accept this, believing that Fred had never been dead at all. He hoped to keep it that way, nobody would regret him if he'd just been knocked out rather than giving the choice of coming back like the others hadn't. But as soon as the thought entered his mind, he heard Harry informing Andromeda what had happened and soon the tent was filled with whispering of "He came back to life?" George sighed and directed an angry look in Harry's direction, but he was too immersed in his conversation to notice that George was furious with him. The twins exchanged looks. _I never said that it was okay to tell everyone._ Fred's eyes said and George nodded. _Damm it._

"You were dead?" Oliver Wood frowned and regarded Fred with confusion. George wrapped an arm protectively around Fred and did as much talking for him as possible.

"Yeah, he saw Dumbledore just like Harry did," George nodded.

"Cool," Lee breathed.

"Erm Fred," Angelina began uncertainly. "I'm really sorry you know about what I said. I apologised to George and I was hoping that we can all still be friends. Especially after we nearly lost you."

"It's fine Angelina. As long as you said sorry to George, what you said to me doesn't matter," he tried to smile. Angelina immediately noticed that he wasn't his usual self and looked up at him with concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Fred lied easily. It had not been so easy lying to George he thought.

The room was suddenly full of unfriendly mutterings and Fred felt his heart sinking. Damm Harry! Now everybody was going to think that he was rubbing his return in the faces of the grieving families when that had been the opposite of his intentions. Guilt coursed through him again and if it wasn't for the fact that George now knew what he was doing and that he had his wand, he would have sneaked off to find comfort in cutting. He did not speak a word for the rest of the wake and he felt George's concern rising, but he managed to hide it behind smiles and laughs as he talked with their friends; to all appearances acting like a man who was relieved and happy to have got his twin back. They wouldn't understand what they had left to be sad about. Now their positions were reversed and it was George who was keeping the jokes running, but none of his heart was in the humor as he kept seeing Fred with his arms covered in blood on the bathroom floor. Would he keep his promise? George felt awful for not trusting him, but he formed the determination to not even let him go to the bathroom alone. He was fighting the urge not to wrap an arm around Fred's waist again, but he didn't want to draw more attention than they were already attracting.

Before everyone left for the memorial service at Hogwarts, the twins made their way over to Andromeda to pay their respects.

"We're both very sorry for your loss Ma'am," George said with sincerity. She merely nodded curtly at them and moved off to speak with a friend, causing Fred's heart to sink even further.

* * *

The crowd that was gathered in Hogwart's great hall was even larger than the one that had witnessed Remus and Tonks' funeral. Word had spread around quickly that somehow Fred Weasley had returned to the living, some of the mutterings were plainly delighted to hear the news, but the majority of them were murmuring disapprovingly over his cheek for turning up like this when they were mourning their losses. What made him so special that he was given a choice that nobody else had?

Kingsley tried to draw people's attention to him as the service began and he praised the sacrifice that had been made by the forty nine who had given their lives so that they could live in peace. A the mention of 'forty nine' instead of the catchy 'fallen fifty' mutterings once again broke out across the room and reporters quills flashed through the air at top speed. _Great,_ Fred thought. _Looks like I'm going to be in the Daily Prophet tomorrow._ He saw George watching Rita Skeeter anxiously, who knew what that woman was going to write about Fred? At the back of the hall Draco Malfoy stood listening to the speeches, he didn't feel like he belonged there, but like Fred he simply wanted to pay his respects. He regretted being part of any of it, but he had been the boy who had never had a choice.

Kingsley unveiled a towering monument dedicated to the people who had fallen at the battle and throughout the war, so many names. Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, Mad Eye, Colin Creevery, Lavender Brown and even Snape had been included after Harry had explained what the memory had shown him, that Snape had been on their side all along and although he had been flawed he had been brave without doubt and deserved his place on that monument.

"You should get some sort of recognition Forge," George whispered to him. "You suffered death after all."

But Fred shook his head. "I think that would make people resent me even more Gred." George wished that he could tell him that that wasn't true but as he felt the stares of the people on the row behind them boring into the backs of their heads and the journalists scratching eagerly on parchment with the prospect of a scandal, he knew with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that for some unfathomable reason people didn't seem to think that Fred should be here. What did they want him to do? Be a hermit for the rest of his life because the sight of him offended their delicate sensibilities? Did they want him to have chosen to go on with the others who had died because it wasn't fair? He could understand of course that people would be sad that their own loved ones had not been able to come back with Fred, but to blame him was awful. Fred didn't need this; he was feeling guilty enough as it was and George worried what this added problem would do to him. Anger flared within him, as he felt Fred slink further into his seat at the grumbling that was taking place behind them. He had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from ripping into whoever was making Fred feel like he had done something wrong. Mrs Weasley was sat on Fred's other side, her lips pursed as she controlled the urge to tell the people sitting behind them exactly what she thought of them.

At the end of the service Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and the rows of chairs disappeared to be replaced by the house tables where a dinner was going to be served. George couldn't wait until they were able to leave; he wanted to get Fred away from those hostile stares as soon as possible. People milled around in the entrance hill, chatting and George suggested that they go outside to get some fresh air before the Hogwarts house elves had finished preparing the meal. Fred agreed, anxious to seek a moment of relief from the accusatory eyes that were following him as the twins walked down the hall. People had soon worked out that the one with no respect was wearing the yellow waistcoat and so Fred had lost the sense of security provided by being an identical twin.

Before they had even reached the doors a witch with chin length blond hair and azure green eyes accosted them. She was holding a handkerchief which was wet with tears and was staring at Fred with a look that was close to loathing.

"Do you have no respect for any of us who have lost someone?" She demanded in an angry tone. The room fell into silence and all eyes turned towards them as reporters cameras flashed and quick notes quills scratched even faster on parchment. Seeing the danger, Mrs Weasley strode down the hall like an angry bull, furious that anybody would dare to speak to her son like that. George gaped at her, lost for words; the mutterings had been bad enough, he hadn't expected someone to accuse Fred of insensitivity to his face like this.

"Coming in here and parading yourself about because you think you're all that for being able to come back from the dead where you belong! But I've heard about you. A jokester aren't you? I suppose you find this really funny that you're so invincible and don't care about hurting people's feelings. You horrid young man!" The silence rang throughout the room, nobody spoke in Fred's favor, everybody was merely watching to see what would happen next. George was filled with an anger so fierce as he saw tears beginning to creep down Fred's cheeks, his shoulders began to shake and his mouth wobbled. All gentleness was gone from George now and he came to his twin's defense with fire in his eyes.

"Who do you think you are coming over here and attacking my brother like this? He's fully entitled to come and gather with everyone. He's been doing anything but parade himself and he's already going through a difficult time without a jumped up-"

George's angry rebuke was cut off by the stream of reporters that pushed him out of the way and surrounded Fred. They shoved their cameras in Fred's face and bombarded him with a stream of questions, asking him if he'd like to comment on the allegations. Was it true? How was it possible? Would he be willing to give an interview? Was he ashamed that he'd come and interrupted people's grieving? Was this another nasty prank? George was trying to frantically shove reporters out of the way to get to Fred, but they formed a tight ring around him, like predators homing in on easy prey.

A sob escaped Fred's chest and he jostled roughly past the ring of reporters and ran from the hall, tears cascading down his pale cheeks as he sprinted as fast as he could away from the staring eyes and flashing cameras. Crying openly, his heaving sobs echoing off the stone walls he ran down corridor after corridor, having no idea where he was going, but wanting to get as far away from them as possible. He felt worse than he had ever done in his life; his skin had already been wafer thin and so the woman's disgust had easily penetrated his defenses and stabbed at his core. As tears blinded his vision he stumbled out onto the Clock Tower courtyard and sank down by the fountain that was surrounded by mounted stone eagles and wept. Why did he choose to come back? Everybody hated him and even George would if he learnt of his feelings for him; whatever he thought that he had seen in George's eyes had been a lie. He had been deceiving himself, nothing more, he wanted to die...again.

"Get the fuck out of my way!" George snarled at the reporters and they immediately backed off allowing him to leave the hall and set off after his twin. He began to panic at the thought that he had no idea where Fred had gone; he could be in any part of the castle suffering alone. But as soon as the thought had entered his mind he felt their bond directing him and he turned his footsteps towards the Clock Tower courtyard. He was shaking with rage and took a moment to calm himself, replacing the anger with his accustomed gentle manner that would be needed more than ever to soothe Fred.

Having regained his composure George passed through the door that led out onto the peaceful courtyard. It was twilight, that ethereal boundary between day and night. The water in the fountain trickled softly and the greenery of the climbing ivy and pear tree gave the antique courtyard a beautiful aspect that was only punctuated by the sound of muffled sobs. George ran forward and found his twin sitting on the edge of the fountain with his head in his hands; he knelt down by his side for the second time that day and placed a firm, reassuring hand on Fred's thigh. At the weight of George's hand Fred removed his hands from his face and looked down at him; his lips trembling with the sobs.

"Freddie," George let his hand run up Fred's chest and neck to slide along his cheek and stroke the skin softly. He stood up and pulled Fred's head to his chest to stroke that lovely soft hair.

"Thank you for standing up for me," Fred's voice quivered, on the verge of breaking.

"You'd do the same for me," George murmured. "I'm your twin, that's my job if some tosser dares to make you feel guilty when you've done nothing wrong."

"I messed up their nice alliteration," Fred's voice trembled bitterly. "The fallen fifty had quite a nice ring to it didn't it? Not a lot you can do with forty nine on the front of a newspaper. It would be better if I was dead," he sobbed again.

"Fred! Don't say that. Don't ever say that," George begged as Fred suddenly pulled away from George's chest and walked several meters away from the fountain to stand with his back to George. He couldn't meet his eyes and say this.

"If they were so disgusted by me turning up today, how disgusted and sickened would they all be if they knew what I felt. What I should never ever have felt but do? What would Mum think, Dad, our siblings, friends? What would you think of me George?" His voice was raw with emotion.

"Think of what Freddie?" George took several steps towards him and paused with a small gap still between them.

"That I'm in love with my own twin... I love you George," Fred's shoulders shook and another gasping sob escaped from his chest, as he waited for the blow, for their perfect relationship to be smashed into pieces forever. "I'm disgusting, I'm sorry, I tried to stop it but I can't...I love you-"

He was cut off by the sudden feel of warm hands on his waist turning him to face his brother; somehow he managed to find the courage to look at George's face and was shocked to see his twin looking happier than he'd ever seen him before. His lips curved widely, his eyes sparkled; the tears that gleamed in his eyes were those of joy and then before Fred could blink, George's lips were on his. His kiss was tender but passionate as his mouth gently moved over Fred's and his hands cupped his cheeks to hold his face there. Fred managed to overcome his surprise and kiss hesitantly back, his hands found his twin's waist and he smiled against George's mouth with pure delight as sensations that he'd never felt before coursed through his body. It was everything that he'd ever wanted and more, as he put all the love that he felt for George into that kiss. George smiled too as he took Fred's lower lip between both of his and sucked lightly before slowly drawing away slightly to gaze into Fred's eyes intently. Fred closed his eyes briefly to savor the moment and licked his lips to savor George's taste. He heard his twin sigh as he did so and George pressed his hips against Fred's so that their bodies were achingly close, but not close enough. They wanted to be one.

Fred nuzzled their noses together and they both sighed contentedly. "I'm in love with you too," George smiled, as Fred felt a lump in his throat from the sound of the words that he'd dreamt of hearing for so long. He was alive and they both loved each other; Fred didn't think that anything could be more perfect than it now was.

"Oh Georgie," Fred wrapped his arms tighter around his twin's waist and they lay their foreheads together as they had always liked to do but now there was a new meaning to it. "That was your secret."

George nodded smiling as his hands dropped from Fred's face to slip snugly around his body. He could have said _of course that was my secret dummy what else did you think? But t_ hey had never been like that with one another; it was no wonder that they had always got on so well.

The twins continued to gaze at each shyly, both unsure how to proceed, but suddenly filled with his usual daring Fred leaned in and brushed his lips against George's again as his twin eagerly responded, capturing Fred's mouth with his own and they kissed again with greater intensity and confidence this time; it was beautiful. They held their kiss for much longer, breathing together and allowing their hands to run into each other's hair. Each enjoyed the softness of the other's lips, the taste of their flesh and the sweetness of their breath; it was pure bliss. Eventually they broke apart, looking anywhere in the courtyard apart from at each other. Neither could believe that their dream was real, that the other shared their forbidden love and for the first time both wondered why they had worried about their twin's reaction. Shouldn't it have been clear? But this was no time for regrets, but merely to immerse themselves in the giddy sensation of being together like this. George entwined their hands together and they raised their eyes to meet again, taking in the extent of the love that was mirrored in each other's kind, warm mocha orbs. What had been the worst day of Fred's life had quickly transformed into the happiest; despite all the jokes and pranks he'd never known happiness like this.

"I guess this place is magical after all," George said softly as he stepped backward towards the fountain and gazed happily at the scene. Fred followed and wrapped his arms around him from behind, before pressing the tenderest of kisses to the side of George's neck. The pulse that could be felt under the porcelain skin seemed to increase in tempo as he did so.

"Do you want to...you know be together...despite what people would think of us?" Fred's voice trembled slightly with anticipation, George loving him too was the main part, but would he want to risk a relationship that was so taboo. Would he be able to kiss that gorgeous mouth again?

"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" George teased as a light breeze began to play with their hair.

"I guess I am," Fred chuckled.

"Of course I want to Freddie, you're mine now," he smiled happily as he pressed his palms to the hands that were wrapped around his waist. "We'll face whatever comes together, as we always have done", he added softly.

It seemed fitting somehow that the place of the greatest horrors that they had endured should also be the scene of the happiest moment of their lives. As they stood and gazed at the rapidly darkening sky, drawing strength from the other's presence, the twins felt that their love was strong enough to stand against the world that would in time make itself felt again, once the first shock of them both being in love with each other passed over. But let the worries of people finding out come later they thought, now all they wanted to do was focus on the happiness of the moment. For the first time in months they had found true peace and Fred suddenly realised that for the first time in months he felt guilt free. He accepted who he was, accepted the taboo love that had caused him so much shame but now brought such contentment.

Life had never felt so good.


	28. Unconventional Love

George couldn't quite believe that he and Fred had really kissed and confessed the taboo love that had been plaguing them both for many long months. It was no wonder that Fred with his more passionate and fiery nature had allowed his fear of rejection to lead him into depression and despair, George thought. The twins felt joy and happiness so acutely, so completely; they immersed themselves in laughter and light but they were also frequently at the opposite end of the spectrum, feeling pain and anger so consumingly too. Whenever the twins felt, it was to give themselves into that feeling; now George let his love for Fred wash over him like a calming stream of peace as they began to rock forwards and backwards slightly on the balls of their feet. It made sense now why his twin had been hurting himself; the jigsaw was complete and for the first time since he had been injured in the battle of the seven Potters George felt like he completely knew his twin again and understood what he had been through. It was what he had suffered himself. He'd hoped, he'd allowed himself that tiny flicker of light that hinted at a possibility that had now become a wonderful reality. Fred loved him utterly, in every way; there was no longer any restrictions, any barriers between them. They could express their love for each other in any way they wished; their unconventional love.

The world's condemnation should it ever find out would be nothing in comparison to the feel of Fred's arms wrapped around his waist and his face pressed into the crook of his neck, holding him tightly as they both took in what had just happened. George had expected the thing that had been causing his twin so much pain to be huge, had even begun to hope a little more that the way he had sometimes seen his twin looking at him had been indicative of something more, but Fred's confession had still somehow taken him by complete, wonderful surprise. He'd nearly been struck dumb with the joy of it but had found his body automatically moving to connect his lips with Fred's, as they had been aching to do for so long. They had both waited long enough; there had been so many opportunities and finally they had both grasped this one tight before it slipped away like the others had done.

As George reflected and searched for all the little things that had suggested something more than brotherly affection and he now knew to be signs of love, he wondered how he could have missed those signs. Had they both been so adamant in their despair that the other could not possibly feel the same way that they had lost that connection that had always allowed them to know what the other was feeling? But this was something different; it wasn't knowing instinctively when Fred was tired or what he was thinking on something that somebody had said; no matter how close they were something so outside the social norms could never have been easy to convey. All that mattered now was that they both knew, not the time that had been wasted. He supposed that if they had been together before Fred had temporarily been lost to death that somehow that agonising grief would have been a thousand times worse and he wouldn't have hesitated to end his life. Where would they have been then? Perhaps it was a better time, now that everything was seemingly over for such a revelation to come; to have given something else for the fear to take would have taken them beyond breaking point. It had taken an unthinkable amount of courage for Fred to walk away from George in the middle of battle; if they had been together he knew that he could never have done it.

"That was the main reason why you were hurting yourself wasn't it?" George's voice although quiet echoed slightly around the peaceful courtyard as the breeze picked up again and reminded them that what they were feeling was no dream. It had truly happened; everything was going to change yet in some way everything would be the same. Somewhere this had always been within them; their relationship had never been that of normal brothers. It transcended the bonds of brotherhood, of typical twinship even. It was dangerous yes to be so emotionally involved with somebody and indeed at times it had been incredibly painful, but the Weasley twins had been born to take risks.

"Yeah. I thought that I was disgusting and I deserved it; somehow it stopped me from having a complete emotional breakdown," Fred murmured as he nuzzled his nose into George's skin and pressed his chest against his twin's back so that he could feel the angles and edges of his form.

"I felt like that too. You're not disgusting," George turned and cupped Fred's cheek again as his twin regarded him with all the adoration in the world.

"You disgusting Georgie? You're the most wonderful person that I've ever met," Fred said, a slight indignation marking his voice. George laughed suddenly, a deep throaty chuckle that warmed Fred's soul.

"We never really met each other. The other was always just there," he smiled as Fred grinned back, nodding.

"You're quite right Georgie. Before we get back to snogging perhaps some introductions are in order. I'm-." But he was cut off for the second time that evening by the amazing sensation of George's soft lips upon his. Daringly, with fire spreading through his veins he slid his hands down George's back and allowed them to rest firmly on his bum. George let out an almost inaudible murmur of contentment and Fred squeezed gently and allowed his eager hands to wander. George grinned as their mouths separated, hands remaining exactly where they were glued to each other's bodies.

"Ummm. I just had to kiss you when you used 'snogging' in relation to us," he blushed slightly.

"Yeah, it's not a word I was expecting to be using. And if you think that was a snog, just you wait," he smiled naughtily, winking at him.

"To get back to what we were saying," George smiled widely, as visions of what Fred had in mind swam in front of him. "If I'm not disgusting then you can't be either. Agreed? I don't want this to be a guilty thing-"

"You want it to be a we don't give a fuck what anyone thinks so deal with it kind of thing," Fred suggested and there it was already that sparkle in the brown eyes that were brimming again with energy and a touch of naughtiness. Fred was going to heal, everything was going to be okay.

"Indeed, we've never been concerned about what people thought of us before. Seems this year we've started to give a dam," George smiled.

"Well Georgie, we're going to go back to being unconventional, odd and frankly slightly weird in our old fashion."

"Speak for yourself," George grinned and Fred arched one fine ginger eyebrow.

"Oh. Is it not you who likes to arrange the sock drawer by colour," he teased.

"Is that really the best example you can come up with?" George smiled as he moved his hands to Fred's hips and pulled him forwards slightly so that they were pressed flush against one another, their hearts hammering in their chests as they were both acutely aware of the fact that their crotches were pressed together and Fred was willing himself not to become aroused. This wasn't just about sex for him, he wanted everything to be perfect. They held each other for another long moment before George told Fred quietly that they could go straight home if he wanted.

"Yeah, is that okay? I can't face that again. Perhaps I'm not quite back to not giving a fuck yet," Fred said quietly as his face lost its blissful look to be replaced by the sadness that had been a permanent feature of his expression over the final year of the war. His eyes glazed over as he was cruelly pulled back to the memory of the scene in the hall and the likelihood of his face being plastered over the front of the Daily Prophet in the morning. The soft caress of George's fingers along his cheekbone however, brought him back to the rather more wonderful present and a happy smile found its way back to his face. He had everything that he'd dreamed of; for tonight at least he wasn't going to allow the world to intrude into their bubble.

"No my...I think I've made you too happy. If they thought that you looking completely depressed and full of self hate was disgraceful to their sensibilities, how offended would they be by that _sinful_ smile on your face," George shook his head and glanced back towards the castle where light could still be seen illuminating the windows of the great hall.

"I know you love sarcasm Georgie, but it is a sinful smile or are we not related after all?" They both giggled and reflected upon how this was their ultimate rebellion against tradition, rules and authority. But it wasn't this that was the foundation of Fred's love for George; he just loved him and it was as simple as that. This time at least he wasn't trying to defy authority for the hell of it, society just happened to say that what they now had was wrong. George slipped his fingers through Fred's to intertwine their long, elegant digits together and began to pull him gently back the way they had came. Glancing over his shoulder, Fred took a last fond look at the place that had brought their dream to life.

As they walked hand in hand through the maze of corridors and passages that formed the heart of the castle, each felt slightly dazed, almost as if they had just emerged from sleep. How could this be real? It seemed too wonderful to be true, but it was. Fred looked down at George's fingers wrapped protectively around his to reassure himself that he hadn't tried to relieve himself from the depression by immersing himself in the most vivid and lifelike of dreams. As they emerged onto the grounds to avoid the predatory reporters that would still be lingering in the entrance hall, it sunk in that this was no dream. Fred's heart soared, he felt as if he was filled with all the happiness in the world and he found his love of life gradually creeping back to him; he loved life because it had given him George and now he knew that nothing could take George away from him again. Not death, nor the feelings that he had been so convinced made him disgusting. _I love my life because it gave me you._ With a sly glance sideways at his twin he debated how long it would take George to figure it out...

"What were you going to call me before you stopped yourself?" Fred smiled at the slight blush which had begun to spread across George's pale cheeks; he was incredibly cute when he got embarrassed like that.

"Oh I...erm," George's eyes flickered downwards and he bit his lip; even in the darkness Fred could see his face continuing to burn. "I was going to say...my love," he glanced at Fred and quickly returned his gaze to the grass that was scorched in places from the destruction that had been wrought by the battle. Fred had been touched by his twin many times in the past, it was no wonder with George's sweet and loving nature, but he couldn't even begin to describe the emotions that were coursing through him right now. _He called me his love. His love!_ Fred gently released his hold of George's left hand and reached it towards his face to tenderly stroke his smooth cheek all the way down to his jaw. George shivered slightly and Fred knew that it was not from the slight chill that could be felt on the night air.

"I like the sound of that," he said softly before slipping an arm tightly through George's. Together they skirted the edges of the castle until they came to the viaduct courtyard. Keeping to the shadows of the covered walkways they kept out of the light beaming from the castle's great oaken door, but surprisingly nobody could be seen lingering and watching for the twins to re-emerge. _Perhaps they sent the vultures packing,_ George thought. But even if this was the case, he was still glad not to return to the hall; all he wanted was to be alone with Fred, to bask in the wonder of them being together before they were forced to begin hiding their love from their family the following day.

As they made their way down the bridge that in a past that somehow seemed far away from them at that moment, had saw enchanted armored statues defending access to the castle, had heard the clang of Giant clubs against stone and metal; George marveled at how different each time he had walked back along this bridge had been. The first had been one of aching numbness, of the agony of losing Fred, the pain of believing him to be lost to him forever; it had been the hardest walk of his life to leave Fred's body behind in the castle. He'd been walking away from life as he had known it forever. And then had it only really been yesterday that with the most acute sense of relief, yet a lingering sadness that he had repeated that same walk, but this time arm in arm with Fred. And now, yet again the situation formed such a happy contrast to its predecessor. His relief and joy to find Fred alive had been overwhelming, but those emotions had been partially tainted by his many fears and worries about their relationship. Those fears were gone now and he felt happier than he'd ever believed possible, Fred loved him; in the end in spite of all the trauma that they had suffered the Weasley twins' innate strength in conjunction with the special soul bond that they shared had seen them through safely to a place of happiness and contentment. George noted this happy contrast to Fred who of course agreed and with sheer force of will maintained his attention on the present, rather than on the thought of how George must have felt leaving him behind in the clutches of death.

When they reached the boundary, George drew out his wand and apparated them home. As the lurching sensations that always accompanied apparition quickly subsided and they both found themselves staring up at the Burrow's crooked structure, the twins turned to each other with loving smiles and bestowed the tenderest of kisses on the other's lips.

"Is this really happening?" Fred questioned, his tone one of abject wonder.

"Yes Freddie, I love you completely," George murmured and exhaled deeply, allowing his fingers to slip into Fred's hair and rub the soft strands between his fingers. Fred had closed his eyes, his lips were slightly parted and his hands had found their way to George's hips. George closed the gap between them and they now kissed in a familiar way as each began to grow accustomed to the sensation of his twin's mouth firmly on his own. Kissing George was heaven, Fred thought as he slipped his hands up George's back and wound his fingers into the sleek hair that nearly covered his 'ears'. Without quite knowing how they got there they ended up sat on the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around each other and kissing with a passion that conveyed the depth of their love for one another. Fred had intended to take things slowly, to ensure that this was what his George really wanted, but he was filled with such a desperate need to be touching him, to be kissing him that he allowed that need to guide him. Reluctantly surrendering hold of each other's lips they regarded each other for a long moment, lost in the depths of the other's beautiful eyes, completely taken in by the love to be found there.

"Would you like something to eat?" The normalcy of George's question in a situation like this had them both laughing unrestrainedly. Shoulders still shaking with mirth, George moved off the sofa and headed towards the kitchen, Fred following in his wake.

"Will a sandwich do Forge?" George attempted to keep his tone even as he inspected the contents of a cupboard, but it was impossible with the fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach. Fred did not help the situation by edging up behind him and positioning himself closely against him so that George was pressed against the counter. His twin rested his chin on his shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist contentedly.

"That'll be great Georgie. I'm not that hungry really but I'm not letting you miss a meal at the moment;" the proximity of Fred's appealing voice brought back the warmth that coursed throughout his body and caused his breath to catch in his throat. With Fred still attached to his body George cut up several slices of thick, crusty bread and slathered them with butter and ham.

"They're probably still having a feast at the hall," George attempted to introduce some normal conversation as he felt unsure suddenly how to act around Fred. This was all so new, but although their relationship had evolved significantly he knew that fundamentally it would be the same as it always had. No, he was nervous and excited about what their mutual confessions of love could lead to; he wanted Fred so much but feared not doing something right and ruining their blossoming love. _I'm being stupid. Fred's not going to care if I'm not good at it and heck he won't know exactly how to do it either; if him and Angelina had done anything he probably would have told me. We'll figure it out together._

"But this is so much better," George felt Fred smile.

"Indeed, much as I love our family we can't be ourselves around them," George reflected as he handed Fred a plate and they moved back onto the living room's sofa to eat.

"We could be, they might-"

"Fred, nobody will ever accept us; hell I'm not sure we even fully accept ourselves yet. I wouldn't believe you if you said that you suddenly felt completely guilt free about your feelings," George spoke quietly.

"No, I still feel wrong and you're right we can't ever let anybody find out. We both know that really however much we pretend otherwise, we both care about what people would think of us."

"Don't you think it's too risky," George asked sadly as he suddenly dropped the remaining half of his sandwich onto his plate. "Do you think we should do this?"

"We can't go back to pretending we're just brothers George. It would be so awkward, we wouldn't touch each other at all in case we gave in to our feelings. I can't stand the thought of that, but if you're not fully comfortable with this perhaps we shouldn't. Perhaps it's better if we don't; it is wrong isn't it?" Fred bit his lip; the happiness created by George's return of his feelings was replaced by the reality of their situation.

"So says society, but what if society's opinion is wrong?" George took Fred's right hand in his left one and rested it against his cheek. Fred saw the guilt and hesitation in George's eyes transform into a stubborn determination and he smiled widely, the left corner of his mouth turning up slightly higher than the other in Fred's favourite wonky smile. George placed the palms of his hands against Fred's cheeks and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

"I love you. You love me. We've been through hell this year; I think we deserve our happy ending too," George said softly as a smile began to break out upon Fred's face causing his cheeks to dimple. This was it, they were really going to be together; guilt at what other people were going to think of them wasn't going to get in the way of their relationship.

"We do. I didn't think we were ever going to get it..." Fred's voice trailed off and his eyes welled up with tears to think how close they had come to losing each other. George caressed Fred's cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his own eyes also full of unshed tears. "We're really doing this?"

George nodded fervently. "Yes, the fact that it's 'wrong' to people shouldn't even make us question whether we should be together. Because for us it's so right. I love you Freddie."

"I love you too Georgie," Fred smiled as the tears that had welled up escaped and slid slowly down his cheeks. George wiped them away with his thumb and regarded him with a tender gaze.

"Hey this is supposed to be a happy moment," he murmured as he drew his arms around him and held him close.

"I am happy," Fred sighed. "And sad and everything in between. It's been a very emotional day." He rested his head against George's shoulder, his twin's wonderful scent filling his nostrils.

"You could certainly say that," George murmured as he trailed his hands down his twin's back and dipped his head so that he could place light, butterfly kisses against Fred's neck. Fred slipped a hand to the back of George's neck and stroked his skin before cradling his skull and gently pulling his head up so that their lips could meet again; this time they kissed with no feelings of guilt, just acceptance of who they were, acceptance of their beautiful taboo love. The soft click of flesh upon flesh could be heard, as they separated to reconnect seconds later; their bond pulsated and they could feel their connection more strongly than ever before.

"You're..so...beautiful," Fred punctuated between kisses. "My...saint." George's eyelids fluttered with pleasure and Fred was filled with the urge to make him feel so much more pleasure.

"My soulmate," George murmured back as Fred suddenly tugged him off the sofa and towards the stairs; their half eaten sandwiches lay forgotten on the floor. Laughing, they bounded up the stairs to their room, nearly tripping on several occasions in their eagerness to resume kissing one another. Fred pushed the door open and drew George into the room, shutting the door firmly behind him, shutting out the censure of the world.

Together they sat on George's bed and re-connected their eager lips, hands roaming over each other's backs. With a thudding heart George felt Fred's moist tongue side gently over his bottom lip and he found it impossible to suppress the low moan that emerged as a guttural noise from the back of his throat. Fred murmured back and pulled George closer to him so that they were sat with Fred's back against the wall and George in his lap. Hesitantly Fred brushed his tongue against George's mouth again and felt him part his lips encouragingly. George cradled the back of his twin's skull and pressed him forward, so that Fred could slowly slip his tongue inside his mouth and stroke it against George's. They both moaned, the noise reverberating from the backs of their throats as they eagerly explored each other's mouths. George ran his tongue over the insides of Fred's mouth, as Fred's hands slipped underneath the back of his jacket to untuck his shirt. Laughing they broke apart briefly to hep each other out of their jackets; with deft fingers Fred unbuttoned George's waistcoat and slipped that off too before leaning in for another tender kiss before George dipped his head again and pressed open mouthed kisses to Fred's neck, lightly stroking the skin with his tongue.

"Georgie... ummmm," Fred gasped, his breathing becoming more erratic as the most wonderful sensations he had ever experienced coursed throughout his entire being. Those sensations increased tenfold as George began to suck lightly at his neck and Fred couldn't restrain a loud moan; it burst from his throat without restraint. Grinning, George re-emerged from his neck and touched his cheek lightly. "Like that do we Mister?" Fred made some noise of agreement, words seeming to elude him as George began to unfasten the buttons on his waistcoat. His fingers were slightly clumsy with how much they were shaking and they both laughed at the stubbornness of the final one. Eventually, it gave way and George freed him from it as Fred loosened George's tie and deposited it on the growing heap of clothing on the floor. Fred's green tie soon followed and they resumed their kiss; its passionate intensity gave way to a slow tender kiss as they pressed their chests together, both appreciating how much closer they could get to each other without so many layers of clothing. They paused for a second and looked deeply into each others chocolate orbs, reading each other's loving consent to carry on, that this was what they both wanted. With fingers that could not seem to cease their trembling they moved to begin unbuttoning the other's shirt. As more and more of George's skin was exposed, Fred felt warmth spreading into his groin and the renewed feel of George's lips on his neck feeding his arousal. With the final buttons taken care of, the twins pulled each other's arms out of the sleeves. Their room was filled with giggles as George's arm got stuck at an odd angle and Fred endeavored to free him. Each other's slight clumsiness was endearing and helped to make it even more special; it made it more _real._ They drank in the sight of each other's bare chests and smiled adoringly at one another. Fred slipped his hand down the middle of George's torso to his stomach, where a spattering of hair was visible on his navel. With reverence, they removed each other's pedants and carefully laid them on the bedside table between their beds. With a naughty wink Fred lay a palm against his twin's chest and pushed him down onto the bed so that he could straddle his hips. As their naked chests met, both twins though that nothing could possibly feel as good as this. George wrapped his long arms around Fred's waist and kicked his shoes off his feet. Fred nudged at his lips again and George eagerly reciprocated; one hand moved to Fred's hair and he gently slipped his tongue forward to touch Fred's. They both shivered as their nipples brushed together and they continued to kiss deeply.

"I love you," George moaned. "So much. I can't believe that this is real," he gasped. Fred nuzzled their noses together and smiled. "Perhaps this will feel free", he suggested as he drew his body back slightly from George's and began to trail a path down George's chest with his lips. George's murmurs increased and he tugged gently at Fred's hair at the wonderful feelings that were consuming him. With another naughty wink, Fred lightly swirled his tongue around George's left nipple and sucked on it lightly, before bestowing the same attention on the other.

"Oh Fred..." George felt his member twitch and start to grow warm as he flipped them over so that Fred was lying on his back and began licking, sucking and kissing Fred's chest in return. Fred's eyes rolled and his mouth was a wide 'o' of pleasure.

He gently pushed George away slightly so that he could reach for George's crotch and cup him lightly through the fabric of his trousers."Oh," George gasped, taken by surprise as Fred pulled his zipper down and pushed his trousers down to his ankles. They were both wearing skin tight underwear that didn't leave much to the imagination and Fred gazed appreciatively at his twin's crotch, trying his hardest not to stare, but lacking the willpower to avert his gaze. It was okay for them to look at each other now after all, no more need to take secretive glances in the fear of provoking awkward questions.

"Georgie," Fred smiled as he reached towards his ankles and freed them. George closed his eyes, expecting the renewed feel of Fred's lips on his and his intimate touch, but instead Fred was laughing.

"Classy look mate, pants and socks," he guffawed, his cheeks dimpling as fingers reached to caress his face with loving tenderness. George laughed too and tugged them off, leaving him clad in nothing but his underwear. Fred's eyes were fixed on him, staring at him with _reverence_ ; there was no other word for it George thought as he leaned in close and brushed their lips together again. Fred's hands slipped from his lower back to his buttocks; his touch felt so achingly near, just one more layer of fabric dividing them he thought once Fred's own trousers and socks were quickly taken care of.

"Love you," Fred murmured; his voice breathy and full of loving intensity as he slid his hands around George's hips and paused, hesitating to touch again his twin's most intimate area. George felt his hesitation and smiled, gently taking one of Fred's hands in his and placing it against him. Fred pressed their foreheads together and began to stroke him slowly through the fabric. Never had George ever felt such pleasure, as he gripped Fred's shoulders and closed his eyes to savor the completely wonderful and yet slightly bizarre sensation of Fred touching him so intimately. It was everything that he'd dreamt it could be and more, as his thoughts cast back to the scene from the snow-globe. He wanted to tell him again just how much he meant to him, but all that escaped his lips was a drawn out moan of his twin's name as Fred increased the pace of his stroking. George closed his eyes, his dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he slipped his arms tightly around his twin's waist and pressed his mouth to the soft flesh of his shoulder causing Fred to murmur and caress him even more intently. The pleasure escalated until it filled him so completely that he could think of nothing but Fred and how much he loved him.

"Freddie, more," he begged and Fred eagerly obliged as with trembling fingers George lightly brushed Fred's crotch, feeling the shape of his penis and firm balls through the fabric. Fred's rhythm faltered completely and he gasped at the contact, his whole body shaking with the pleasure of it. Much as he had been enjoying the indescribable feeling of having his twin stroke him like that, George was filled with the desire to reciprocate to his twin that wonderful sensation. He stroked him tenderly, gradually increasing his pace as Fred's moans also increased. But the pleasure subsided as quickly as it had come, each too self aware of the enormity of what they were doing to build up to orgasmic release, but nevertheless each twin was feeling contented; both wanted to take it one step at a time. They'd waited so long to be together, when it came they wanted it to be perfect, to be free of any restraint or worry about the outside world, which they imagined to hear hammering at the door to disturb their bliss. Turning away from the image of the rest of their families disgusted faces, Fred closed the gap between them and pressed kisses against George's jawline and up to his remaining right ear where he nibbled at the lobe gently.

"ummmm. Don't get too eager though and leave me with no ears," he giggled and Fred laughed too, the sound vibrating against his neck where Fred had now buried his face.

"You're perfect," he whispered. "So beautiful... hey you don't need to worry about it putting girls off anymore," he smiled as his fingers gently ghosted over the ruined flesh.

"No. I've got you," his voice was barely audible.

"ummmm. They should have got you while they had the chance, but you're mine now", Fred said huskily, his arms wrapped around him possessively.

"And you're mine, Freddie love," George smiled with lowered eyes as he slid the hand that had been caressing Fred's crotch to his cheek and held their faces close together. Fred touched his cheek lightly in return and George raised his eyes to meet Fred's joyful ones. The light that had been absent in Fred's eyes for so many months had returned, George had brought it back to shine brighter than it ever had before as they regarded each other with a mixture of love and wonder that they were really together like this.

"That felt amazing," Fred whispered, feeling his cheeks reddening slightly and George too was looking slightly abashed. They made eye contact again and burst into a bubbling laughter as they realised that the other felt exactly the same.

"Well we've never been shy with each other before," Fred smiled tenderly as he drew George against his chest for a cuddle.

"Because we've never done this before," George chuckled, pulling away from him momentarily to press his lips warmly against his, before snuggling back against his warm flesh again.

"It all makes sense now, why you hated yourself so much," George said softly as he traced patterns along Fred's skin.

"I'm not sure it's quite in the past tense yet Georgie sweetheart," he confessed. George's head jerked up from where it had been resting and he took Fred's face in both hands so that Fred had nowhere else to look but into George's shrewd gaze boring right into him.

"You're a good, beautiful person. Nothing that's happened was your fault, let it all go Freddie please. We can be happy now," George asked hopefully. "I'm not asking you to love you, but at least to stop being so hard on yourself all the time. I'm going to show you just how amazing you are. You think that we all would have been so devastated to lose you if you were indeed the person that you make yourself out to be? Why do you think I love you so much? It's not just because you're my twin and I'm duty bound to do so. I choose to love you, for your amazing sense of humour, your kind heart, flare, courage, creativity, stubborn determination and all the weird little things that make you you. You inspire me every day," he finished.

Fred didn't quite know why his chin was quivering or his eyes suddenly brimming with tears, but for the first time he was able to fully appreciate and understand why George loved him. It made their love stronger, as Fred would no longer question how George _could_ love him.

"I'm sorry if you ever felt that I didn't appreciate your love properly because I didn't get why anyone could for all these months. But hey with that speech I think my ego has gone back through the roof," he smiled tenderly.

"I think it's come up from underneath the floor at least," George quipped. "It was never that big to begin with. You were always confident on the outside but not always within. Sometimes I'd wonder whether you didn't quite believe me for all your assertion that you were a horrible person for some reason that you wouldn't tell me, besides all the guilt from things which were _not_ your fault. But no Freddie, I've always known that not only do we feel love for the other, but feel each other's love as well."

"Good. The horrible thought just entered my head that I could have upset you," he smiled as he slipped his arms tightly around his waist. George gently drew him to lie back in the bed with the duvet drawn up to their waists. George lay on his side and pulled Fred to him so that they were spooned against each other's bodies and could feel every angle of the other's form. "I love you...so much, he said with a sweet intensity that made George's heart melt.

"And I love you, the _not_ unholey twin." A warm chuckle emerged from Fred's throat and he pressed his mouth to George's so that they could kiss languidly, hands gently slipping about each other's bodies. If someone had told Fred that morning that merely hours later he would be curled up in bed clad in nothing but a pair of scanty underwear, kissing and touching his beloved twin, he wouldn't have believed them.

"I know what you meant now when you said that you wished we weren't twins. Bit stupid of me to think that you hated me really," George reflected.

"Georgie what else were you supposed to think. I can't believe that you were so ready to accept my apology without an explanation."

"I wanted to press you for it, but I knew that you weren't ready to tell me and it wouldn't have done any good. Hey, it wasn't just up to you to bring everything into the open. I should have told you how I felt too; I was just so scared that I'd ruin everything between us."

"Perhaps we should thank those reporters then, they sort of made everything rush out."

"We wouldn't have had to wait much longer, I'd decided to tell you when we got home, but you beat me to it," George grinned as he brushed a finger along his lower lip.

"Just like being born. 13 minutes too slow Georgie," Fred teased as he gently pushed a hand between his legs and stroked his inner thigh.

"You probably pushed me out the way," he bantered back as they nuzzled their noses together. "Freddie when you were with Angelina for a bit did you..."

"Kiss?" George nodded and Fred regarded him with what was clearly an apology in his eyes.

"Yeah, but it was only a quick kiss nothing more, certainly not a snog or anything. It was exactly the way that I've kissed you before really, a sibling sort of kiss."

"Since when did you kiss any of our other siblings on the lips." George joked.

"Yeah we may have called it that, but it really wasn't was it? I suppose we were just trying to deny our feelings." George nodded and debated how best to ask his penultimate question; it would be so awkward to put into words but for some irrational reason he needed to know.

"So you and Angelina didn't-"

"What have sex?" It was immediately clear to Fred what his twin was getting at and why he was asking; they both wanted to be each other's first and last. "No. If we didn't even snog I don't think we'd just skip to that! I was with you though so how would you not have seen..." Fred realised though that in that week or so of dating that he hadn't been around George much at all, he'd left him to hang out with Angelina who hadn't been keen on the idea of George coming along on their dates. "Georgie did I upset you? Be honest, it's okay."

George hesitating but their relationship had always been founded on an open honesty and trust. Considering that they were working everything out between them, it seemed right that Fred should know the truth of it. "I'd never been so jealous in my life. These feelings must have been buried deep down somewhere I guess and seeing you with Angelina probably nearly made me realise them back then. It wasn't a fun time for me honestly, but I didn't want to spoil it for you, you had a right to go out with someone and I wanted you to be happy even if I was a bit lonely." Fred's eyes widened horrified.

"Lonely? But... you were with Lee right?"

"Not exactly. He was hanging around with Alicia and Kenneth the whole week," George said matter of factly. Fred sat up in bed his face white.

"You were by yourself all week?" His voice was barely a whisper and his eyes widened with horror. "George...I-"

"What does it matter now?" George silenced his apology before it had chance to begin. "You should view it as a good thing really. The thought of you being with someone else made me admit I had feelings for you over the summer. It kind of sunk in that we weren't kids anymore and that we might soon be apart and live separate lives, " George admitted with a small smile as he grazed his forefinger along his twin's cheekbone. Fred smiled too as he acknowledged the truth of this and snuggled back down by his side, drawing his arms around George's slender waist so that they lay facing each other with their foreheads resting together, warm, chocolate brown eyes aglow with a mixture of happiness and relief. George closed the space between them even further and sensually stroked the back of Fred's calf with the sole of his foot. "So... when did you first realise that you had feelings for me?" George asked softly as he regarded Fred with anticipation.

"When this happened," Fred whispered back, running a finger around the site of his twin's injury. "You were so close to dying that for the first time I realised just how much I really loved you. Our relationship had been getting stronger and stronger by the day anyway with everything that had been going on and I couldn't believe that you were able to joke after you'd just had your ear torn off to try and lighten everybody's mood. It takes a very special person to be able to do that my Georgie. I love you." He let a hand drift down George's chest to his navel, all the while maintaining that wonderful eye contact that enabled them to feel the other so acutely.

"I knew that was what you needed, a joke to hide behind," he whispered before lightly pressing his lips back against Fred's and tasting that sweet, forbidden nectar that filled his soul with light. Fred slipped his other hand up George's back to cradle the back of his skull and they kissed for several long minutes, filling each other with a warmth and contentment that they both knew could never be found with somebody else. They had been made to be together, two halves of a whole that fit together and nowhere else; an undying, death-defying love. As their kiss receded to merely a gentle brushing of lips, they once again professed their love and marveled at how far they had come since the event that had set everything in motion, both in terms of the war and the path that would lead to their newly found blossoming romance.

"I can't quite believe that only two nights ago I thought you were gone forever and now you're here and we have this," George whispered.

"I know. We've been both so incredibly unlucky and lucky at the same time. Like the third Peverell brother we've cheated death on so many occasions. Now that we don't ever have to fear losing one another my darling... we're free of the fear."

"I don't think my Boggart will ever change though or Mums. Out of everybody she saw us together because not even in death did she ever imagine that we could be apart... and thankfully she was right."

As they lay safely in each other's arms, nothing else mattered in that moment apart from the fact that the other was alive and happy, that they were no longer hiding anything and their relationship was finally complete, no longer clouded in the uncertainty that had been brought by adulthood. None of the jokes or pranks that they'd pulled amounted to the happiness that they now felt; a heartwarming ending to the tragedy that they had endured. Or was it just the beginning of something more?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry for the relatively long wait guys, but I'm buried up to my neck in university work. Hope you all like this chapter and apologies for the irregular updates from now on. Please feel free to ask me any questions and as always any feedback is much appreciated after the effort that has gone into this! Thank you for all the reviews that I've had so far, especially to the three people who've commented after nearly every update. Still so much more to come!   
> PS: I'll be making a slight change to 'Deep Mourning'. For the plot I need Mrs Weasley to not know about the pendants that they gave each other.  
> WeasleyTwins2


	29. Love and Lies

Only a short time passed before the rest of the Weasleys trooped into the living room, all talking in loud and disgusted voices over the treatment that Fred had received. But none appeared as angry as Mrs Weasley who was shaking slightly over the indignity that had been accorded to her son. The others couldn't get the image of Fred running from the hall out of their minds and couldn't help but feel surprised that he had not reacted to the attack with his usual gusto and snarkiness.

"My poor Fred," Mrs Weasley sobbed. "How must he have felt? He must have thought that everybody wished he was dead and that nobody wanted to stand up for him!"

Mr Weasley placed his arms around her shoulders soothingly and smiled sadly. "Well, I think George said what we were all feeling," he said to many chuckles.

"I've never seen him so angry," Ginny observed with a smile. "He's certainly not gentle George when it comes to Fred being hurt in any way".

"Yeah," Ron laughed, clutching the back of the sofa. "It's no wonder they all jumped out of his way so quickly with the look that he was giving them."

"A good job too or else they would have been on the receiving end of some rather unpleasant hexes," a deep voice interjected into their chatter. Immediately, all heads jerked across to stare at the tall figure clad in pajamas with a jumper over the top and half concealed in the shadow being cast by the living room door. As he stepped forwards into the light, it was impossible to miss the happy spark that was emanating from the young man's eyes and the slight glow that warmed his recently paler than usual complexion. It had been an astonishing event to see the twins depart from their joyful personalities, but now it somehow seemed even odder to see George return to it so suddenly and without any overt reason for the reversion. They had expected to see him still full of righteous anger at the pain that the journalists had inflicted upon Fred, but instead here he was watching them with a contented smile that they could see he was trying to restrain, but nevertheless stubbornly spread across his face. George winced internally but found it impossible to moderate his expression, he was just so happy. Fred loved him and if that couldn't make him smile then what would? After all the tears he _needed_ to smile, to again feel that joy that had been such a core part of him and yet so damaged by the war.

"Ah George, how is he?" Mrs Weasley asked nervously, although already knowing the answer. If Fred was still upset over the incident than without a shadow of a doubt George would not be standing there with that uninterpretable smile upon his handsome face. At her question, his blissful smile dissipated and there was the anger and intense protectiveness that they had all expected to observe on his entry.

"He's okay," he began softly. "But with no thanks to those immoral bastards who'll never trouble themselves to let somebody's _feelings_ get in the way of a good story," he finished with an angry bite to his voice that was not usually a feature of his low, rich tones.

"Language George," Mrs Weasley reminded him without any real emphasis.

"Yeah, you've had quite the potty mouth recently," Ron grinned as George smirked back at him.

"Says the person who has an innate inability to express himself without the inclusion of at least one 'bloody hell' ". Ron clutched the sofa even harder as he laughed and nearly stepped onto the plates of sandwiches that the twins had forgotten in their eagerness to explore their confessions of love. George was most amused to see how his little brother's eyes literally lit up at the discovery of food lying around. Mrs Weasley saw what he had nearly stepped in and frowned disapprovingly at George.

"Dearie, you shouldn't be missing meals," she chided.

"I know Mum, but Freddie was tired, so we just went upstairs," he smiled.

"Well, I'm putting you, the pair of you actually on a strict three large meals a day with plenty of snacks diet, so you both put on some weight," she informed him authoritatively.

"Any chance I can get in on this too?" Ron asked hopefully, to which everyone laughed apart from Mrs Weasley who rounded on him.

"Ronald! You're brother is as thin as a rake and yet you're thinking about your own stomach as usual," she reprimanded him.

"Don't worry Ron. By the sounds of it we're going to need a rubbish bin with the food Mum's going to pile in front of us," George smiled and tossed his fringe out of his face with a flourish. He enquired after what had occurred after he and Fred had left the hall and was heartily amused to hear that Professor McGonagall had threatened to stick something sharp up a certain place unless the reporters didn't leave and then promptly told the mutterers that what was being said about Fred was the worst nonsense that she'd ever encountered in her life. And anyone who thought so was a nasty fool who must be jealous of the twins and seeking to kick them when they were down. Of course nobody wanted to be painted in that light and so the condemnation of those few had given way to much praise and warmth towards the legendary Weasley twins.

"It would have been a right ego trip if you'd been both been there to hear the nice things people were saying," Bill chuckled.

"I think Fred could have done with that, although thankfully he did seem to believe me when I told him that he wasn't a _complete_ horror of a human being, only a _little_ but not all bad," he grinned. Mrs Weasley placed her hand to her heart and beamed at him.

"Oh I bet you made him fell like the specialist person in the world," she sniffed.

George lowered his eyes to gaze briefly at his bare feet before raising them; his chocolate orbs were illuminated with light and his mouth curved slightly at one corner. "To me he is the most special person in the world, but he says I'm biased of course so my opinion doesn't really count," he smiled softly, but it didn't appear to be quite directed at them. Instead, George was gazing absently with that blissful look in his eyes across the room and for a moment seemed to forget that he was in a room full of crowded people. He blinked slightly and quickly replaced his dreamy expression with a more personable grin as he beamed at each of his family members.

"George... Before the fiasco at the memorial... Fred looked as if he'd been crying. Did he tell you what was bothering him?" Ginny asked cautiously, unsure whether she was intruding onto ground that the twins would rather not be discussed and indeed she saw that her brother's demeanor became instantly more guarded.

"Yes, he's going to be fine now, more than fine in fact," George said with authority.

"So was it just him feeling like a git for what happened at the wedding," Ron pressed with his usual lack of tact. George began to edge backwards slightly towards the door, desiring to extricate himself from the room as quickly as possible before their family's questioning became too probing and drifted onto territory that they needed to avoid at all costs if they were to prevent suspicions from being formed.

"Partially, but like I said he's fine now, just don't expect him to jump right back to his old self again... Not with the dark place that he was in," George spoke, fearing that he'd said too much as soon as the words had left his mouth; his fear was confirmed by the drop in Ron's jaw and the incredulous looks on many of his siblings faces.

"Fred was _depressed?_ That word doesn't seem like it could ever be connected with Fred at all," Bill said with astonishment.

"Well," George said with a half smile. "It seems like you've all been under the same illusion when it comes to us. We must have done such a good job at being the jokers that we made you forget we could cry too, but hey seems this war has been a journey of self discovery for everyone. I'd better get back to him, night guys."

"Goodnight sweetheart, tell Freddie we all love him if he's still awake and don't forget we all love you as well, very much," she said meaningfully, as she kissed him on the cheek. Once he had gone, the family were silent for a few moments, taking in everything that George had said.

"Well, I think the twins have surprised us yet again," Hermione concluded.

"They've certainly always had a talent for shocking people," Percy affirmed with a chuckle that sounded distinctly unpracticed, like he wasn't used to laughter but desperately trying to find it and become a better person as a result. The others nodded and felt that suddenly that they were seeing the twins in a whole new light

"I never realised that they never quite showed us who they were behind that niche that they carved for themselves," Mrs Weasley reflected. "They have such kind hearts. At least we all know that our twins are both safe and happy again at least," she sighed with relief.

Mr Weasley nodded and drew his wife gently towards him to embrace her. "Those pair are the light and soul of our family. I don't know what any of us would do without them." There was a general murmur of agreement and all eyes turned to the mantelpiece that was still a shrine to the Weasley twins, but one that had thankfully lost the sadness that looking upon all those photos had inflicted upon them just days ago.

"Gosh was it really only yesterday morning that we got him back... that we got both of them back" Mrs Weasley suddenly stated with surprise. Only two nights ago they had been mourning their loss of both Fred and George as they had known them forever and now thanks to a miracle that they honestly didn't quite fully understand yet, but knew was down to the twin's connection, were smiling over the happiness that they had all so clearly seen in George's eyes. Each determined to themselves that from that point on they would appreciate the wonderful souls that were their twins more.

Fred sat up in bed at the sound of George's footsteps ascending the stairs to the landing outside the room; he'd know those footsteps anywhere and be able to pick them out from the echo of many feet. They were so familiar and always instilled in him a sense of giddy happiness when he knew that George was about to enter the room. Indeed, the door opened and his twin shuffled in, tugging up the sleeves of his overlarge jumper to his elbows. Fred noted the dreamy, blissful smile on his face with tenderness and held out his hand which George eagerly clasped as he sat down next to him.

"Please tell me you weren't smiling like that downstairs," Fred laughed as he already knew the answer.

"Yeeeeah," George admitted. "But a smile isn't going to give the game away unless they're all Sherlock Holmes," he grinned. "You can't say much anyway Mister with that grin of yours, we're going to have to be careful. I don't know a bit of snogging and you look like the cat that got the cream," he giggled as he brushed a hand gently through Fred's soft locks and pulled his jumper over his head.

"Oh, I've not had it yet," Fred grinned at him mischievously and added a saucy wink. George felt his face burn immediately and Fred trailed a finger down his cheek with reverence. "Are you cold or can the pj's go?" He asked with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm sure you'd happily warm me up if I was," George smiled again and leaned in to peck him on the lips. The smile on Fred's face erupted into full bloom and he emitted the tiniest of contented sighs as he watched George quickly strip back down to his underwear and lift the duvet to snuggle back down next to him. He quickly related what everybody had said, making sure to especially emphasise their family's expression of their love for him.

"So you can't say I'm biased anymore," George grinned triumphantly.

"Oh, but Georgie they're all biased too," Fred chuckled.

"Oh you know you're beautiful Mister; I bet you just like hearing me say it now," George teased him. Fred pulled him closely to his body and let his right hand slide softly up and down George's bare back. They kissed each other softly and curled around each other's bodies in the fetal position, as if they were back in their Mother's womb.

"Well of course. What are boyfriends for if not to tell you how amazing you are," he joked and kissed George's forehead. "Goodnight babe. I love you," he said quietly with such emphasis to convey the force of that love. George let out the most high pitched laugh that Fred had ever heard from him, which amused him no end. "Oh we like babe do we?" He grinned, now it was his turn to be the tease, although he couldn't deny that out of the two of them George excelled at it the most. George nodded and kissed Fred again, telling him that that would be the last one before they went to sleep, but of course several more tender kisses followed after that. Eventually they both settled down to rest; they had their whole lives to kiss each other after all.

"Goodnight honey, I love you too." If it wasn't for the silencing charm that the twins had thoughtfully placed around their bedroom, their family would have heard their hysterical laughter at the wonderful strangeness of getting to call each other entirely inappropriate names but that for them, were so fitting.

* * *

I stirred into that satisfying liminality between sleeping and being fully awake and quickly become aware of the wonderful feel of Georgie snuggled close to my side, his arms draped loosely around my waist and lower back. Sleepily, I tighten my grip around him and watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, simply marveling in his beauty. Light is just beginning to intrude into the room between the gap in our faded orange curtains to illuminate George's pearly skin. He presses even closer into me, so it is impossible not to notice the fact that his crotch is pressing against my thigh. When I think of how we kissed and stroked each other last night, the pessimistic part of me that feared the worst for our relationship tries to present it as nothing more than a dream. But I know that it was so real, how he made me feel was too potent to ever be something that could be dreamt. There was no need for me to be so consumed with fear and self hatred; there was no disgust in George's eyes when I finally admitted the truth, only love. The depression has vanished as quickly as it came and all because of my Georgie; he may have been the cause of my pain but he's my saving grace nonetheless. I love him so much. The last year has made me realise just how similar, yet different we really are, but if we were the same then we couldn't love each other as we do. It's been weird for us though I must admit to accept that we're not completely identical but to see that's it's okay not to be; twinship isn't about being the same, it's about having that special someone who understands and appreciates you in ways that nobody else ever could.

A wide yawn escapes my boyfriend and I run my fingers through his silky locks. _Boyfriend_. It feels funny to use that word, but that is what he is now. My twin brother, my best friend, my boyfriend, my soulmate. The most tiniest of alterations in the tension of his body immediately lets me know that he is awake and I lightly trail my hands over the curve of his hips, appreciating the fact that his underwear has slipped lower during the night and I naughtily push them down further so that I can lightly stroke the top of his bum. The feel of his bare skin thrills me to the core and I nearly shiver at the little moan that escapes him. One beautiful eye opens and he winks at me; he's a fabulous winker, making me feel as if I could melt with that one tiny gesture. I wait for several seconds with anticipation to see if he will greet me in my favorite tone of his and sure enough Georgie does not disappoint.

"Mooooorning Freddo," he cooes, patting my bum in turn. I smile at him tenderly and rest out foreheads together so that I can press our lips together. George moves his mouth over mine eagerly and I feel his moist tongue slide over my lower lip before he gently thrusts it forward so that out tongues can slide against each other. He tastes fantastic and I cannot help but crave more as he draws away and strokes my cheek softly, all the while meeting my eyes with his kind and loving gaze.

"You really are developing a habit of feeling me up when I'm asleep it seems," he teases and smiles at my reaction which is to blush furiously. He lightly brushes my hipbones in circular motions with his thumbs and an embarrassingly loud mewling noise escapes me.

"George," I protest weakly as he does it again and latches his mouth onto the soft flesh of my neck. Wow, he's more confident in bed than I thought he would be, but I love it when he is confident, especially when he takes charge; it turns me on for some weird reason. Not that our relationship has ever been about dominance in the slightest. He may have always been the quieter one, but he has a kind of confidence that doesn't need to be expressed through flashiness that I find incredibly sexy. He chuckles against my neck as I gasp as he sucks the skin and leaves a trail of saliva with his tongue.

"No love bites," I grin, as I thread my fingers into his hair. "We don't want to get caught so soon."

George laughs and kisses my cheek. "And biting isn't exactly what I'd call loving, unless you want to be kinky that is," he winks again. I chuckle, loving how intimate we are already even though it was only yesterday evening that I confessed how I felt, but as we've known each other for twenty years I feel like it's only perfectly natural for our physical relationship to develop quickly to match our deep emotional and psychological connection. I happily ponder how far he wants to go, even if he doesn't want to go all the way _ever_ , I'm perfectly content with the kind of physicality we have now. I can tell that he knows what I'm thinking from the way that he gently brushes his hand along my crotch. I kiss his nose and place my hands on the waistband of his pants, my eyes forming the silent question, _off?_ George's smile grows a fraction wider and the sparkle in his eyes intensifies as I slide his underwear down his legs and pull them over his ankles, leaving him completely naked. It's not like we've never seen each other naked before, but never in this situation and that change of circumstances makes it completely different, almost as if I'm looking at him naked for the first time. I run my hands over his bum lightly and gaze at his crotch appreciatively; a gaze that brings the cutest blush to his cheeks. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my own underwear and draws them down slowly, teasingly almost, exposing me little by little as he drinks in the sight. Our bodies are almost identical, with the exception of a few marks, George's slightly longer legs and fractionally broader shoulders; these subtle differences give way to a rather more noticeable difference _there_. To be crude, we're practically the same generous length but differ on the thickness side.

"I love you Frederick," George sighs happily and the words that were about to gently admonish him for using a name that I hate die in my throat. I realise that I actually love the sound of it on his tongue and he grins widely in the sudden change of my attitude.

"I love you too Georgina," I grin, just having to get him back slightly. He swats me playfully and smiles.

"At least you've finally admitted that you like it," he whispers in my ear. "After all legally your name isn't actually Fred."

"Well Frederick and George doesn't quite have the same ring to it," I giggle. "But I suppose you can use it whenever you like your holiness."

"You must love me then," he teases. "You've always hated it with a passion.

"You've made it grow on me," I concede. "But really Georgie, twenty years, I think you need to improve in the arts of persuasion my love."

A goofy grin spreads over his face and he quickly proceeds on showing me just how persuasive he can be with his hands and mouth. I'm soon murmuring in agreement as he gently pushes me onto my back and straddles my waist, his knees on either side of my hips to lean over me. I cradle his face in my hands and draw him down further for a long, intense kiss. We both inhale sharply as his crotch brushes against mine and neither of us are able to believe that those parts of our bodies are really touching. Soon eager hands are exploring and George moans as I slowly pump him and lightly squeeze his left sac in my hand. He reciprocates my movements and I moan loudly at the feel of his skin on that most intimate part of me.

"ummmph," George emits and his murmurs make me murmur even more; I've never heard him make such noises before and I quickly begin to feel warm. Our movements increase and we manage to switch positions so that we're both kneeling upright in front of each other without breaking the rhythm of our stroking. Pleasure courses through me and clearly through Georgie too as he mutters something that would be unintelligible to anybody else, but I instantly know to be _I love you_. Equally incoherent I moan my love for him into his surviving ear and slow my pace right down to a teasingly slow brush along his rigid cock. He does the same and places tender kisses against my jaw before burying his face into the crook of my neck. But we are unable to sustain our teasing for long and our pace rapidly increases, so that we are almost frantic in our efforts to pleasure each other. I rest our foreheads together and quickly banish the thought of somebody forcing their way past our locked door and catching us jerking each other off. Our breathing becomes panting as I feel ecstasy building within me and I grow closer and closer to climax. I can tell that Georgie is very close too and so achingly near to being driven over the edge of orgasmic pleasure with me. We maintain steady eye contact throughout, the loving intimacy greatly enhancing both of our pleasure. Suddenly, I reach that point of bliss and I ejaculate white semen all over George's hand; he quickly follows and coats my hand and stomach in his own seed. Wave after wave of pleasure consumes me as we ride out our orgasms together, bodies trembling and slick with sweat. Gradually the pleasure recedes and I'm left feeling more warm and contented than I've ever felt before; the look on Georgie's face is pure bliss and I nuzzle our noses together. We ease each other down from the heights of pleasure and eventually gently release each other. George instantly wraps his arms around me and we sink down onto the bed; a sweaty tangle of limbs. George's lips find mine and his hand trails a path down my chest to where he's left my stomach glistening with stickiness.

"It's messy," he giggles, looking utterly adorable as he tries to wipe some of it off my stomach.

I smile, face heated as I reach for my wand to clean us both up; my brain struggling to comprehend what just happened. Never did I ever think that my dreams would come true and by the look on George's face I can tell that he's thinking the same. I laugh internally at how stupid we both were in not registering that the other was feeling the same; how did we manage all those long months of high emotions without ending up kissing is beyond me, but then there were so many times when we were so close. The cheering chocolates, when George was drunk and the so many occasions where each of us started to tell the other and then drew away at the last minute in fear. We both avoid each other's eyes, a slight awkwardness and uncertainty in the air, but we both quickly find each other's eyes again and smile. We were not made to be awkward with each other, as neither of us are capable of hiding from this and pretending that it never happened. So I clasp his hand tightly in mine and he presses his lips to my forehead with a soft click as flesh meets flesh.

"That felt amazing," he murmurs as I nod eagerly, feeling the uncertainty that momentarily filled me evaporate at the sound of his calming voice; the voice that always makes me feel safe and secure no matter what.

"I can't believe we both feel the same," I almost squeak with excitement.

George nods happily and cuddles me to his chest and smiles contentedly. "Are you okay now," he murmurs, his sweet breath tickling the sensitive skin of my neck.

"More than okay," I reassure him. "You are worth any pain." George's face crumples with tenderness and he whispers sweet nothings in my ear. I giggle and pull him into my lap so that we can begin our caresses again.

"This is so wrong," George suddenly sighs and jumps back with a concerted glance at the door, as we begin to hear our family stirring, doors slamming and voices urging people to hurry up in the bathroom.

My heart plummets. What? Oh no, he's having doubts. George catches the worry flashing in my eyes and quickly endeavors to soothe my fears. He pulls me to him and wraps his long arms securely about me, gently holding my head against his shoulder.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I didn't mean it like that, I could never ever get up from here and just pretend that that didn't just happen or that last night was nothing either. It's just that I don't want you to be hurt by what other people are going to think of us, how they're going to treat us." He strokes my cheek softly and slips a hand through my hair. "You deserve better than that," he whispers.

"But this is what I want," I insist stubbornly, grabbing George's face roughly and kissing him firmly on the mouth."It's going to be fine Georgie, nobody's ever going to find out. I don't want the world to ruin it every time we touch it other."

"God I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin it-

"You didn't," I place a hand firmly against his chest. "It was wonderful," I smile and press my lips to his softly. He kisses back eagerly and we twine together, holding each other.

"Besides one of us needs to be the sensible one," I chuckle, taking his hand and lightly kissing each knuckle.

"You say that like you haven't spent the last nine months worrying and hating yourself for your feelings."

"Ummm, you have a point there," I'm forced to acknowledge. "But now Gred, I have resolved to not give a fuck again," I grin. "If they do find out I'm ready, " I declare with gusto. "Let them have a go!"

George shakes his head, his shoulders shaking. "I love you you crazy bastard," he smiles before pressing a kiss to my nose.

"And I love you, thinking about me as always before yourself. I don't want them to hurt you either, but I think that this amazing relationship that we have is worth that risk. We'll face them together and I know that our love is strong enough that they wouldn't be able to tear us apart. Is that what you were thinking too?"

"Yeah," Georgie admits. "But I was stupid to think that; no matter how many times somebody screamed at you that you were disgusting that you'd never leave me. I'm sorry, I hope I haven't upset you?" He asks brown eyes wide and I can see him beginning to tear up. I cuddle him closer and rock him gently in my arms.

"Of course not, I'd be an insensitive git if I didn't understand that you're terrified about losing me again. But I swear to you that I will never ever leave you again. I love you." I draw his mouth to mine and we kiss with passion, both content that we are secure in each other's love and that nobody's condemnation will be able to come between us, because as much as we both assert that nobody will find out, we both know inside that it is only a matter of time before they do.

* * *

Ron stared at his plate piled high with sausages and bacon with impatience, constantly looking towards the door as he waited for the twins to enter the kitchen. "Where are they," he moaned.

"Ron!" Mrs Weasley smacked him lightly on the back of the head as she passed behind him with a frying pan full of eggs. "You'll wait until your brothers join us. Fred is probably feeling awkward about coming downstairs and facing everybody!" As soon as she'd spoken, the sound of two people whistling, perfectly in harmony with each other greeted the family's ears and everybody smiled to hear the cheerful noise which was soon joined by the sight of two identically happy faces, clad in matching pajamas.

"Good morning boys," Mrs Weasley greeted them, smiling in relief to see that Fred didn't look as sad as she had expected him to, but at the same time wondering why.

"Morning guys," they chorused in unison, bringing more smiles to people's lips. George led Fred to the table by the hand and pressed him gently into a seat, before looking anxiously towards the kitchen window where at any minute an owl was expected bearing the newest edition of the Daily Prophet.

"Oh Georgie what's the worst they can say about me," Fred placed a hand over his twin's reassuringly, everybody's eyes following Fred's hand. _Gee_ , he thought, _we really weren't that affectionate in front of people_ _most of the time_ , as he withdrew his hand and let it drop into his lap. George turned to him with raised eyebrows and Fred grinned, knowing that there were plenty of things which the newspaper could say about him, especially if their luck was completely out and it was a certain journalist writing the article that was inevitably going to appear.

"How did you sleep dears," Mrs Weasley tried to distract the twins and everybody else from the dreaded arrival of the owl.

"Good thanks Mum, did you?" Fred answered cheerily for them both, struggling to repress a wicked grin at the thought that they hadn't gotten as much sleep as they could have done.

"I've had better nights dearie," their Mother said as she came up behind them with her frying pan and ruffled his hair. She portioned out a mountain of food for them both leaving the twins staring at their plates with consternation.

"Well you did warn me George," Fred eyed up the mountain of food and wondered how on earth they were going to manage all of it.

"Eat," Mrs Weasley instructed briskly as she handed them forks. "Really how you two ended up so tall is beyond me!"

"It was just to prove you wrong really Mum," George grinned at her cheekily. "You always said when we were midgets in our first year that we were going to be the shortest in the family, so naturally we couldn't have that."

"Yeah dam you two, I thought tallest in the family was going to be my title," Bill grinned.

"Bill you've already got coolest, you can't have everything," George grinned at his eldest brother.

"So out of the two of you who's title is it?" Percy asked grinning; it still felt unusual to see such an expression on their middle brother's face and the twins hoped that the change in him was going to be a permanent one.

"Both of us!" George insisted with a tone of mock outrage, whilst Fred also nodded indignantly.

"100% identical," he added,

"Well stand up then," Charlie demanded, "so we can see for ourselves."

Sighing the twins stood up, George remembering to slouch slightly to hide the fact that Fred was at least half an inch if not a full inch shorter than him. They nearly thought that they had gotten away with it when Ginny noticed that the younger twin was not stood completely upright.

"George, stand up properly," Ginny laughed.

Exchanging a glance with Fred, George reluctantly stood to his full height, realising that now they had reached adulthood there were so many ways in which they were no longer identical.

"Wow, I didn't realise that there was such a big difference," Ron stated with surprise. "Either Fred isn't actually 6 3 or George is nearly 6 4!"

Fred wrapped his arms around his twin's waist from behind and rested his chin on his shoulder. "Well I don't mind it I suppose, so stop slouching Georgie or you're going to do your back in."

George turned his head to grin at him. "Well I was only doing it to hide your deficiency Mister".

"I'm definitely 6 3 on the dot so you are nearly 6 4, hey that's very nearly a full foot taller than Harry and Mum!" He added with a sly look in Harry's direction.

"Giraffes," Harry bantered.

"Stumpy," Fred countered.

"Tree," Harry continued, as he got up to put his plate on the side.

"Midget," George beamed. "I feel like the three of us could keep the height banter going all day!" Everyone laughed at the stark difference as the twins grinned at each other, stood on either side of Harry and proceeded to have a conversation over the top of him, as he only just reached their shoulders.

"You two are both banned from ever standing next to me again," Harry laughed.

Body shaking with laughter, Fred sat down and only had to raise his head ever so slightly to reach eye level with Harry who shook his head. "It's a good job I'm not sensitive about it," he chortled.

"We know you're not otherwise we wouldn't joke about it," Fred reminded him firmly.

"Oh of course you do, that's the great thing about you guys. You're both so witty, but most of the time manage to not offend anybody and apologise immediately when you do," Harry smiled at them.

"We're good at reading people I guess," George said thoughtfully; the random conversation had succeeded in completely distracting him from the awaited arrival of the owl. It had not however slipped Fred's mind, who looked nervously towards the window and sure enough an undefined shape was just visible through the window and steadily getting larger. George saw where he was looking and felt fear wash over him, what kind of things were the whole wizarding world going to be reading about Fred? Would they believe them? He rested a hand on his twin's shoulder and squeezed gently to reassure him. Now the whole family was looking half fearfully, half curiously at the owl that was approaching the window. As soon as the bird swooped in and sat on the ledge, with a paper rolled up and attached to its leg, George dove in and removed it. With nervous fingers he unrolled the fresh paper and gazed at the front page.

"Seems like yesterday was a slow news day Freddie, seems that the rounding up of the last Death eaters isn't important to the Daily Prophet; we've both made the front page," George glanced over towards his twin, who's face had paled considerably.

Fred groaned and tugged at the ends of his hair in frustration. "I just knew that they were going to drag you through the mud. Just wait until I get my hands on- wait who's written it?"

"I'm sure everyone can guess who," George said darkly.

"Skeeter," everybody sighed, as George nodded and held the paper up so that they could see the pictures. The first one was of George, with a face like thunder, wildly gesticulating and swearing at the reporters that were blocking his path. The odd sight of George's usually smiling and kind face filled with such anger suddenly broke the tension that had descended on the kitchen and everybody laughed, including Fred who gently tugged the paper out of his hands so that he could take a closer look at the picture and the accompanying caption.

"Mr Weasley's identical twin brother with a worrying violent streak verbally assaulted our journalists, using some rather course language that we do not wish to repeat here," Fred managed to splutter out whilst nearly crying with laughter.

"Oh Georgie, well who knew you had a dark side," he teased. "Looks like we're all going to have watch ourselves."

"Yes, next time you leave your dirty underwear all over our flat Freddie- face my wrath," George laughed shoulders shaking with mirth."

"I'd hope that it would take more than dirty underwear to break a twenty year relationship," Fred laughed, clutching the table.

"I don't know about that, your messiness drives me insane, but I wouldn't make you tidy for the world," George smiled at him fondly, conscious of the fact that they were revealing more of their differences and placing more cracks in their identical exteriors. Indeed, everybody looked from one twin to the other with surprise, but a discussion on this newly revealed difference was halted as Fred's gaze slid to the picture beneath. It was him, with the wild-eyed look of a prey animal about to be eaten surrounded by flashing cameras, his eyes swimming with tears, lips pursed and chin wobbling. The rest of the family gasped at the image and George tried to lean around Fred to see it, but Fred held the paper at arms length and looked at George worriedly.

"Promise me you're not going to go berserk George," Fred demanded of him with a worried expression.

"Oh don't worry only as crazy as you'd be," George promised with a sly grin, which made everybody laugh again.

"Funny how that doesn't reassure me," Fred grinned back at him.

"No it wouldn't Mr protective; Voldemort just happened to get Snape before you did," George rested a hand on his shoulder and made a lunge for the paper. Laughing Fred pulled it out of his reach and they proceeded to playfully wrestle for it. The family all had tears in their eyes as yet again the twins successfully managed to turn a moment of darkness into one of light. George emerged triumphantly from the tangle of long limbs on the floor, took one glance at the photo and was quickly filled with the memory of coming across Fred in the courtyard and vividly heard his voice echoing around his head. _"It would be better if I was dead."_ Anger filled him and he was suddenly filled with the terrible desire to cause them as much pain as they'd caused Fred. He was only pulled away from these dark thoughts by the feel of Fred's hand on his cheek, a wave of calm seeming to wash over him with the touch. All playfulness was gone from Fred's face now as he gazed at him with concern. He took the paper from George and handed it to Bill.

"You read it Bill," he said quietly, as he tugged George onto a chair.

Bill cleared his throat and began to read. The article could not have been any worse, as usual Rita had excelled at painting her victim in the worst possible light.

**Weasley Twin believed to be dead makes shocking appearance at Hogwarts memorial and vindictively disrupts service**

_Until yesterday evening, Frederick Gideon Weasley aged 20, was believed to have perished at the Battle of Hogwarts, but after a series of astonishing events can no longer be counted among our heroic fallen 50. This is decidedly for the best, as I am sure none of us want the sacrifice of our dead to be besmirched by the inclusion amongst their numbers of such a selfish and abominable individual as the co-owner of the so called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes._

_Ever the lover of a cruel practical joke, Fred according to those who knew him at school enjoyed torturing his fellow students with laughs at their expense. But last night Fred took this to the next level, deciding to completely ruin our chance to respectably remember those who had fallen by seizing the limelight, a trait that the Daily Prophet is told has been typical of him, as he has always sought to be the center of attention. Mr Weasley claimed to have come back to life in a similar manner to our chosen one, but it is not clear how exactly this came to be. It seems more likely that this was Mr Weasley's ultimate joke at our expense to make sure that he was the central focus as usual. No doubt he was helped as always in pulling off this disgraceful feat by his sidekick in evil, and twin George Fabian Weasley, who's explosion of emotion upon finding the 'body' of his twin can be concluded to be fake. Mr Weasley disrupted the calm mourning off everybody during the pause in the battle with screams and tears that were no doubt intended to make a mockery of the grief of those who lost loved ones. It is therefore evident to the Daily Prophet that Mr Weasley is nearly as unpleasant a character as his brother._

_Together this 'duo' whilst at Hogwarts may have claimed to be the 'pranksters in chief', but in reality they were nothing but bullies who deserve to be despised. Mr Graham Montague informs us that the in his final year at school, he was callously pushed into a vanishing cabinet by the twins; a vicious attack that nearly proved fatal to Mr Montague. Arthur and Molly Weasley must be ashamed to call these two their sons after the successful careers that their elder brothers have embarked upon. Their pitiful shop Weasley's Wizard Wheezes sells dangerous and no doubt illegal items. The twins seemingly see no harm in taking people's money for their 'inventions', which rather than being a mark of their genius as some poor deluded souls have stated (No doubt bullied by the twins into praising their store) are rather a mark of their dangerous and unstable personalities._

_Standing way above average height at six feet, three inches, the twins are rather challenged in the looks department. In this case there is certainly no benefit to be gained from having two of them. Out of the two George is the ugliest, with a large wound where his ear used to be, presumably a result of one of their dangerous experiments. Yet in spite of their ill-favored features, we have been informed that the Weasley Twins are under the ludicrous impression that they are in fact remarkably handsome and a 'catch'. Egotistical and obnoxious, the Daily Prophet is able to report that the twins have gained a reputation for exploiting as many young women and girls as they can get their greedy hands on. It can only be a matter of time before we see these two criminals in Azkaban for their sale of illegal goods and abusive attitude towards women. In the meantime, I would advise my readers to stay away from their store in order to avoid their 'products' and these two unpleasant individuals. It remains clear however, that out of the two of them it is Frederick who can be considered the most appalling for the maliciousness that he demonstrates towards his siblings. He actively set out to bully his older brother Percy, which explains why the middle Weasley child decided to leave home and really we can't blame him for wanting to escape the reaches of his cruel brother. Not only did he drive Percy away, but he also tortured his youngest brother Ronald Weasley by feeding him acid pops that burnt holes in his tongue and is the one responsible for his arachnophobia. It seems that by being his twin and engaging in criminality with him that George has escaped the bullying nature of his brother. The two have reportedly always been extremely close and we must indeed question why two adult men have chosen to live with each other. It seems that such unorthodox behavior is what we can expect from the Weasley twins, who have no respect for rules, laws or the feelings of other people._

_If Fred Weasley had died at the Battle of Hogwarts or stayed dead according to what version of the story you believe, we must say that it would be no great loss to the Wizarding World, who would be better off without these two heinous young men._

_Rita Skeeter._

Bill finished reading and forcibly tossed the paper onto the middle of the table. For a long moment nobody spoke nor looked at each other, but eventually Mrs Weasley risked a look at Fred and George who looked crushed. She whipped out of her seat and seized them both around the necks with a sob.

"Don't either of you dare to be upset by what that horrid woman has written about you. Nobody in their right minds who knows you would believe such rubbish. You're both the kindest and generous souls that we know!" Mrs Weasley declared as she stroked both of their cheeks.

"How anybody could could call Saint George a bully is beyond me," Fred said sadly, as he drew his fingers gently down George's cheek. "If anyone was ever upset by anything we did it was my fault, not George. I never realised that people saw us as bullies. That incident with Montague though has to be the worst thing that we've done, I don't know what came over us George."

"Nobody sees you as bullies, what a load of rot," Ron asserted. "You've never hurt anyone! You were five when you gave me that acid pop and they're real sweets that are sold; It's not like you invented them! And as for Montague, he was part of the Inquisitorial Squad, he was working for Umbridge!" The twins smiled at Ron's defense of them, praying that none of the people that they'd ever played pranks on saw them in such a light. Bullies maliciously sought to bring pain to their victims; the twins had only ever wanted to bring people light.

"That awful woman, I thought that I'd taught her a lesson," Hermione said, her eyes flashing. "We'll have to get her back for this Fred, George."

"Welcome to pranking Hermione, but I think doing that would confirm what she's said about us, talk about character assassination.

"She seems to have laid off you Harry, calling you 'our chosen one', guess she's got some new targets now. God knows how long she's going to be interested in us for," George stated glumly.

"Just when you thought everything was going to be okay, life fucks you over again," Fred said quietly, his voice beginning to break but everybody heard him clearly. George wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his cheek.

"It's going to be fine, what's the worst that could happen apart from us going out of business," George said with a harsh laugh.

"If she can make a mountain out of nothing, what on earth could she say about-" The twins exchanged looks and George resisted the urge to throw up. Skeeter had alluded to the impropriety of them living together, but 'thankfully' this line seemed to be overlooked by Skeeter's argument that they were most definitely interested in a chauvinistic pursuit of women who were't interested in them.

"I'd be interested to hear how Rita can accuse virgins of rape," George quipped without humor.

Mrs Weasley regarded them tenderly. "Because that woman doesn't care about evidence when she sets out to ruin people's lives. Don't let her win, you look like you've both given up," Mrs Weasley said sadly at the sight of their dejected expressions. At her words however, the defiant spark to their eyes was quickly back.

"Oh she's not going to, we're not going to let her get us down after for the first time in months we can be happy again, after-" George swallowed and summoned the strength to say the words. "After Fred died and we all thought we'd never see him again." Fred clasped his hand and squeezed it tightly, murmuring words of comfort. George drew his arms around his waist and clung tightly. He whispered so that nobody could hear, "You're not going to go all suicidal on me again, right?" His large brown eyes bored into Fred's and he smiled reassuringly. "Of course not, how could being dead be the best thing with how much you love and need me." They drew apart and grinned at the rest of their family who were all watching them with awe.

"Good," Mrs Weasley smiled at them. "It's a good job that the pair of you are so strong to deal with everything, we're all here to help you. I'm so worried about you both."

"We're fine Mum honestly, happy in fact," George reassured her.

"Good, you both deserve to be." She laughed suddenly and regarded them admiringly. "How on earth she could have called you both ugly I'll never know. I think we can all agree that the pair of you are beautiful."

"Well we are to each other; I know that sounds narcissistic, but thanks guys that's nice of you. Don't worry she hasn't offended our vanity, we never had any to begin with," Fred smiled.

"Aw, you're both so modest," Mrs Weasley beamed at them, as she ruffled their hair. "Even though you're the most handsome of all my son's!" Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron immediately placed looks of mock indignation upon their _less handsome_ faces. Fred turned to George and they shared a wide smile that flashed the whites of their neat, even teeth and laughed; the familiar and much beloved sound filling their admiring family's ears.

"No hard feelings we hope bros," George grinned.

"Mum's only trying to make us feel better," Fred smiled.

Ron shook his head laughing. "No she's right, dam you both!" Ron grinned back.

"Careful with the flattery Ron, it'll place under the ludicrous impression that we're remarkably handsome," Fred said, managing to manage a completely straight expression.

"Yeah, you're just feeding our egotistical natures," George added, failing to maintain an even expression and breaking out into a smile.

"She's got a point I suppose with the authority issue," Fred conceded with a feigned sigh.

"Indeed, I suppose it just makes us more dangerous," George spluttered, not managing to hold the laughter in any longer. Fred joined him, his cheeks dimpling. George cupped his twin's face in his right hand and grinned at the rest of the family. "I mean really how anyone can think this cute face is dangerous I'll never know." Fred smiled at them with the Puss in Boots wide-eyed gaze; his chocolate orbs would be mesmerising to even the most coldest of hearts.

George released his face gently. "Of course, don't let that fool you. It's how he draws you in," he said dramatically. "Escape while you can!"

"Much too late for you then Georgie," Fred cooed and took his wrist.

"Indeed," George agreed. "Rita was right about my 'fake' tears, I was crying with joy to have finally escaped you," he teased.

Fred's bubbling laughter again rang through the kitchen. "Well you gave an Oscar worthy performance in that case... from what I heard," he added softly," rubbing his thumb over the inside of his wrist. "We'll catch you guys later, illegal and dangerous things to do," he said jokingly.

"What's that dear?" Mrs Weasley asked him concerned. "Are you doing more experiments already, I hope it's nothing dangerous. I don't want either of you hurt, I've just got you back!"

"Mum. We're going to shower and get dressed. I mean I can see why some people would think there's something dangerous about George being naked, but-"

"I love how your mind conveniently forgets our identicalness whenever you want to insult me," George grinned goofily at him.

"Well I've spent the last two days telling you how wonderful you are, so time for a healthy dose of insults now pratface," Fred laughed, as he began to pull him towards the door.

"Arse," George bantered back, as they disappeared out of sight. They could be heard playfully bickering all the way up the stairs, until their voices were muffled by the closing of their bedroom door. Their family remained silent for a moment, still taking in both the lies of Skeeter and the twins' reaction to them. There was something decidedly off about their behavior, but their family couldn't quite place what it was, and were about to conclude that it was simply recently distressing events that had caused their different behavior, if it was not for Ron showing how perceptive he could actually be.

"They seem different with each other," he mused. "Way more affectionate."

"That's not really surprising," Ginny assessed. "They thought that they'd lost each other, it's only natural that they'd be more expressive towards each other."

"No, that's not quite it. It's almost as if it's not a recent change, but as if they've just given up pretending not to want to show affection towards each other, rather than just banter," Ron frowned, struggling to figure out the twins.

"Well if that's true, there's rather more complexity to them than we thought," Mr Weasley said. "I think we should be careful, I don't want the twins to think that we're talking about them behind their backs."

"Of course not!" Mrs Weasley agreed, as she began to clear the table. "We're all just worried about them."

As soon as George closed the door behind them, he swept Fred into his arms and held him tightly. He stroked his hair and pressed his lips to his temple. "Are you okay Forge?"

"I suppose," Fred sniffed. "I just can't believe she dragged you through the mud as well! To make a mockery of your grief!"

George snuggled him ever closer, inhaling the warm scent of his skin with satisfaction. "Well I should be ashamed of being so dramatic and not keeping it in until I was alone." Fred felt his twin shudder at the word _alone_ and wrapped his arms around him so tightly that George was able to partially sample what it would feel like to be caught in the grasp of a boa constrictor, but he loved it. Despite their intimacy last night and again this morning, it still wasn't enough, he wanted to join with Fred, to be one, to diffuse into his skin.

"I hurt them by throwing moderation to the wind," George said quietly to his twin's surprise.

"Why should they have expected you to control your grief? Seeing me like that, I can understand why, I would have been just the same."

"No, you would have tried to cheer them up like I didn't," George argued, feeling the guilt that Harry had instilled in him wash over him, it cloyed his airways and made it difficult to breathe. "I was selfish." Fred stared at him with horror.

"I don't understand my love, I told you that you were brave for staying with our family, when _I_ most definitely would have killed myself. Our family never expected anything of you and certainly weren't angry about you staying in here." Fred stroked his cheek lovingly.

"I know, guess it's just me making myself feel guilty like you've done to yourself all these months Freddie," George smiled sadly, pressing his lips gently to Fred's in an endeavor to distract him from their conversation. As much as Fred wanted to surrender himself to George's warm mouth and the slender hands that had dropped further down from his waist, he had to set his twin's mind at rest like George had done for him. All of a sudden it clicked in his head and he gently pushed George's face away half an inch. George saw the enlightenment in his eyes and groaned inwardly, knowing that the Burrow's calm was about to be overthrown. He wasn't going to lie to Fred for Harry's sake and had only refrained from telling him out of fear for Fred's reaction.

"Someone said something to you didn't they?" Fred's eyes glinted dangerously and George could already see the anger building in him.

"Yeah, but Freddie they had a point, they were just trying to get me to grieve with the rest of the family rather than locking myself away. I'm sure they just had my best interest at heart, you know a bit of what you call tough love."

"Tell me George." There was a commanding tone to Fred's voice that he'd never normally even consider using, but the darker side of him demanded to know the identity of the person who had hurt his beloved twin. George narrated every word that had passed between him and the boy who lived in that short, angry exchange. Harry's words sounded so despicably harsh being repeated and George waited on tenterhooks for Fred to explode with rage...

"HARRY POTTER!"

George could have sworn that the Burrow's very foundations trembled, as his lover evaded his restraining grip and hurtled towards the stairs. The situation may have not been amusing in the slightest, but still George couldn't help but smile at the thought that Voldemort was nothing in comparison to Fred in full protective mode. Acting out of self interest and desire for power could never compare to the intensity and passion that accompanied acting out of love.

_AN: Sorry for the wait guys, but I've finally found time to update amid all my uni work! I've mapped out the rest of the story and there's still plenty to come so please do keep reading and letting me know what you think. I recently read an article on a blog that somebody wrote about the twins being bullies, they certainly didn't sound like fans of them! You can find it pretty easily by searching 'Are the Weasley twins bullies?' I didn't agree with a word of it, but if any of you read it let me know what you think. A always thank you for all your interest. Weasley Twins2_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry for the wait guys, but I've finally found time to update amid all my uni work! I've mapped out the rest of the story and there's still plenty to come so please do keep reading and letting me know what you think. I recently read an article on a blog that somebody wrote about the twins being bullies, they certainly didn't sound like fans of them! You can find it pretty easily by searching 'Are the Weasley twins bullies?' I didn't agree with a word of it, but if any of you read it let me know what you think. A always thank you for all your interest. Weasley Twins2


	30. Fire and Ice

George quickly darted after Fred as his twin thundered down the two flights of stairs from the second floor, but despite his speed George was quicker and managed to catch up with him at the bottom. With a great lunge forward he seized hold of the hem of Fred's pajama top in an attempt to prevent him from rushing forward into the kitchen where the rest of the Burrow's occupants were still gathered.

"Freddie," he pleaded, as he was tugged several steps forwards by his twin's sheer force of will.

"Let go George, I'm having it out with Harry whether you like it or not! Nobody speaks to you like a piece of shit and gets away with it on my watch!" He half growled, eyes burning with an angry intensity that was only ever summoned when someone he loved had been hurt, especially George.

"It's fine...Fred just let it go...please!" George pleaded with him desperately. After everything that had happened he craved peace, peace to be with Fred, not more conflict. 

"Fine? How is what he said to you fine Georgie? Just because he defeated Voldemort doesn't mean that he gets to treat people however he wants!" Fred insisted with his usual brute stubbornness.

George sighed with exasperation and managed to seize Fred around the waist to prevent him from edging any further towards the kitchen.

"Well no...But let's cut him some slack and I really don't want to cause a fuss Fred-"

Fred paused in his efforts to free himself from his twin's grasp and for a moment George believed that he had succeeded in stemming Fred's tirade. But he should have known better.

"You know your only flaw to me Georgie," Fred said softy, despite the fire that still burned in his eyes. "You're too nice sometimes for your own good." He pressed his lips to his forehead and slid out of George's stunned grasp. The buzz of voices in the kitchen had ceased, as the family listened to the sounds of argument in shock. The twins arguing? The idea seemed impossible; the twins had barely ever disagreed with each other, let alone argued. So as Fred appeared in the kitchen doorway, eyes still blazing, Mrs Weasley met his angry gaze with concern.

"Fred? What's going on? Were you and George arguing?" She asked incredulously, as George clattered noisily into the kitchen behind them. Fred didn't answer her, but simply stared with cold fury at Harry who shrank into his seat from the intensity of Fred's gaze. He knew instantly why Fred was now looking at him almost with loathing and he regretted his words to George even more. He knew that Fred wouldn't be interested in his defense that he was guilt stricken over his death and feeling powerless to heal the pain of the family that he loved more than anything in the world. The fact was that he'd said it and so he felt that he deserved whatever words Fred was about to throw at him.

"Only because Georgie, is being too saintlike for his own good. But of course I forgot," he added sarcastically. "In Harry Potter's _worthy_ opinion he's a selfish bastard for thinking about himself for once instead of playing the clown for everyone-"

"Fred-"

"Because of course it's really _despicable_ of him to have been upset about the death of his twin brother for fucks sake and unable to face sitting with his family, feeling guilty that with his face he'd be reminding you all of what had happened."

"Fred-" George again tried to stem the tirade but Fred ignored him completely and advanced towards where Harry was seated.

"How fucking dare you purposely seek George out to vent your own frustration when he was so devastated. How fucking dare you try to persuade him that I was bloody ashamed of him, as if you know me better than he does. When I was just as bloody distraught that we'd been separated and he'd done his best before he saw that photo of us on our birthday! Of course he knew how dam upset everybody was, as if George wouldn't be able to see that! And as for what you said about pulling himself together..." Fred paused for a moment mid rant to draw a breath, hardly understanding how Harry could have screamed at George and told him to accept that his twin was dead. "Tell me Harry if you had your whole life shattered in one blow, if your identity was irretrievably snatched from you so that you didn't even know who you were any more, would you be able to just accept it?" Fred's voice subsided to a mere whisper, but Harry could hear the dangerous tone that it had suddenly taken as Fred stepped closer; his fiery auburn hair and blazing eyes lending a fire-like quality to his appearance. Mrs Weasley leapt up from her seat and placed herself between Harry and her son, who she feared was very close to punching him. George simply stood near the doorway, arms folded and watching the one sided confrontation with agitation. Mrs Weasley held her hands up and rested one gently on Fred's shoulder to try and calm him. She turned to gaze at Harry, disappointment in her eyes as she asked quietly, "Did you really say all these things Harry?"

He nodded, eyes gazing at the table unable to look anyone in the eye, whether it was to meet Mrs Weasley's abject disappointment, Fred's potent fury or the embarrassment that tinged George's deep, soulful eyes.

"Yes...I really don't know what came over me," Harry murmured as he fiddled with his fingers and finally dared to raise his head, only to see an anger in Ginny's eyes that made her resemblance to the twins clearer than ever. The whole family was shocked, at a loss to understand how Harry could have treated George, who he had always got on so well with, with such contempt.

"I'm so sorry," Harry articulated with feeling. 

"It shouldn't be Mum you apologise to, but George!" Fred snapped loudly, eyes following Harry's ashamed countenance as he rose from his seat and approached George who remained silently agitated by the kitchen doorway. He couldn't help but feel slightly exasperated that Fred had refused to listen to him, but nevertheless his twin's stubborn defense of him filled his heart with warmth. Fred had always sought to defend him; it was in instances such as these that he played the role of the big brother, even if it was only by thirteen minutes.

Harry paused several meters away from George's lanky form and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his faded denim jeans, trying to find the right words to appease Fred's anger and remove the sense of guilt that he had cruelly instilled in George. He was acutely aware of the fact that George seemed to be as embarrassed over the situation as he was, but having known Fred for seven years he had not expected that he would simply take him aside for a quiet word.

"George...I can't tell you enough how sorry I am... What I said to you... at such a time is unforgivable...You were in so much pain and I made it worse by being a selfish bastard and trying to make myself feel better by making you feel even more like shit... You weren't selfish at all... You are a stronger person than I can ever hope to be... To have the person who had been such an essential part of your life wrenched away from you and yet stay behind to not the cause the rest of us any more pain, when I know from what you said that all you wanted was to join Fred, is one of the most selfless acts that I've ever seen. I don't know how you could have believed me when I said that you were selfish," Harry almost laughed, almost feeling the way that Fred's penetrating brown eyes were still boring into the back of his head.

"Because his holiness has an opinion of himself that is far too modest for my liking," Fred informed him coolly. There was certainly none of the affable friendliness that had always been present in his voice whenever the Weasley Twin had addressed him, but his voice had lost its angry bite and he was now speaking in a considerably more reasonable volume much to the relief of everybody's ear drums.

"Definitely," Harry nodded rapidly, risking a glance at Fred who glared back at him, clearly not impressed by his attempts to appease him. "I'm so sorry George...I hope you can forgive me."

George smiled at him reassuringly and Harry felt a weight suddenly lift from his chest; for a while he'd seen the twins as his elder brothers, he didn't want to lose that sense for anything. "It's fine Harry, everyone was so emotional. It's always easy in that sort of situation to say things that you don't necessarily mean."

"Probably did," Fred muttered under his breath, but loud enough so that he could be clearly heard by everyone. "You just didn't expect to have to account for your actions to me, expected me to be six feet under by now didn't you?" There was a collective gasp at Fred's blunt words and Mrs Weasley took a few steps back in shock. George felt as if his newly mended heart was about to be ripped into shreds again as he struggled to banish the images of a funeral that had never taken place that had crept into his all too imaginative mind. But he managed to hold himself together, telling himself that it was stupid to go to pieces at every little reference to what had happened. Fred was alive. He just wished that his darling twin would someday learn a little more subtly, but his blunt and down to earth nature was still one of the things that he loved about him the most.

"That must have been why you weren't exactly too pleased to see me. Oh don't try and deny it," Fred snapped as Harry had started to open his mouth to deny his accusation.  "You knew it would only be a matter of time before I figured out what was wrong with Georgie." George stepped past Harry towards his mirror image before he could berate Harry further and placed his hands soothingly on his biceps regardless of the number of eyes that were focused on them; Fred struggling to resist the sensation of calm that was flowing over him with his twin's touch.

"Satisfied Mister? If not I  think we're going to be needing a bucket of water to douse the flames," he grinned with his contagious lopsided smile that usually had Fred smiling too, but the anger towards Harry was not satisfied yet. He shrugged George off, as soon as he did so the sense of calm vanished and he was left wit his anger; it was almost as if George's touch had a magical quality to it. He knew beyond doubt that it did. He advanced back towards Harry, breaking his gaze away from the hurt that he had seen briefly light George's eyes as he'd shrugged him off. 

"Fred-" Mrs Weasley stepped forward again, trying to draw him back to his senses, as Mr Weasley also rose from the table concerned that things were about to get ugly.

"Much as I'm sorely tempted, I'll leave our chosen one in one piece this time," Fred half growled. "But if you thought that Voldemort was bad, you haven't seen anything if you ever dare to hurt him like that again," he finished in a menacing tone. Without a glance backwards towards his family or George, Fred swept out of the room but in spite of his exit the tense atmosphere only grew more heated as Ginny rose from her chair shaking slightly and slapped Harry hard across the face.

"How could you treat my own brother like that? I never saw you as cruel Harry; there isn't a piece of Voldemort inside you anymore that can justify this."

"Ginny I know. I'm sorry," Harry replied. "I don't know what else I can say." Ginny opened her mouth to respond angrily, but George cut her off before the words could leave her mouth.

"Please don't fall out on my account," George pleaded desperately, drumming his fingers against his right thigh as his gaze shifted from one to the other. Ginny's face immediately softened at his words and she reached up to hug him tightly.

"Oh George... This isn't your fault," she insisted. George hugged her back, but didn't agree, starting to regret that he'd told Fred what had happened. Now it looked like he couldn't deal with anything on his own, that he always had to run to Fred, but his pride was certainly never going to get in the way of the overwhelming sense of relief that Fred was still here for him to confide in and defend him when someone had hurt him. He tugged the sleeves of his jumper, with a large 'G' emblazoned across the front to his elbows, revealing pearly skin on slender limbs and began to edge towards the door.

 "I'll go see if Freddie's calmed down," he quickly excused himself.

He found him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom, glaring at his reflection in the mirror which promptly told him to make sure that he washed behind his ears. Fred glared even harder at the mirror as if trying to vent the last of his frustration, sighing he dropped his hands to either side of the sink and met George's half amused, half exasperated expression in the smooth sheen of the glass. He turned and positioned his back to the sink, regarding his twin with a suddenly sheepish expression on his face which moments ago had been overcome with rage.

"Sorry I just took off like that, but I knew that if I spent a second longer in the room with him... well I couldn't be held responsible for what happened next," Fred smiled, placing an appealing smile on his face and widening his brown eyes into a heart melting warm gaze. George smirked, knowing exactly what he was trying to do, but nevertheless he couldn't help but be affected by it.

"Are you cross? I know you said that I should just leave it, but I could never just stand by and see you hurt George," Fred said, softness lacing his voice. George shut the door behind him and approached Fred where he was still stood by the sink to enfold him in his arms. Fred smiled, looking a little relived and hugged George tightly back. Breaking from their embrace  George tilted Fred's chin slightly and pressed his lips warmly to his. Fred made a noise of pure contentment and lost himself wholeheartedly  in the wonderful sensation that he'd torn himself away from to confront Harry. George gently held him against the sink and deepened their kiss, Fred' arms snaked around his back to hold him there as he emerged himself in the feel of George's lips, tongue and the occasional playful nip to the side of his neck. Fred laughed, remembering what George had said earlier about biting. 

"I thought you said biting was kinky," he teased, "unless seeing me yell at Harry turned you on," he added slyly, letting his hand trail down his twin's abdomen to his groin.

"Well I was hardly sinking my teeth in, but you just taste soooo good," George said breathily against his ear.

"Now, now Georgie, not only would that be cannibalism, but you'd basically be eating yourself, with our most identical DNA," Fred giggled, as George pushed a stray lock of hair off his face.

"Great now all I can think about is Harry and cannibals, not quite the romantic thoughts that I was hoping to have" George laughed heartily. Fred's giggles increased as George grinned and tickled his sides, not to be outdone Fred slipped his hands under George's clothing and found that extra ticklish spot that forced George to concede defeat. He threw his arms around Fred's neck and the twins proceeded from where they had left off, softly joining their lips together and allowing their tongues to roam the other's mouth. Their hesitancy had quickly vanished and both felt the beginnings of a wonderful familiarity, that made being together like this start to feel like something normal. A sharp rap at the door made them both jump and withdraw, although George fingers remained clasped at the back of Fred's neck.

"Fred... or George... whichever of you is in there anyway. Are you having a shower or not, cause I want the bathroom," Ron's voice could be heard slightly muffled from the other side of the door. Both twins made to answer and then paused,  remembering at the last second the impropriety of them being in the bathroom together when they were supposed to be showering.

"Patience is a virtue Ron, George is getting in after me anyway so you'll have to wait your turn bro," Fred called as George glared at the door. Trust Ron to be the one to interrupt the most amazing kiss that they'd had yet.

"Right, well hurry up anyway. Have you seen my Droobles by the way mate?"

"Nah, ask Charlie you know he likes them. If you left them on the side he's probably eaten them," Fred replied, beginning to draw George close again, as they both gazed lovingly at each other.

"Well, I think I'll just go and ask George, see if he's seen them," said Ron. Both twins' eyes bulged, if Ron went to their room and found that George wasn't in there, it wouldn't take much for him to guess (even though it was Ron) that he must be in the bathroom too; after all he'd seen him go upstairs as well. 

"He doesn't know where they are either," Fred tried.

"How'd you know?" Ron demanded. The twins locked gazes and Fred winced; they were experts at not getting caught, the ratio of mischief managed to detentions accrued proved that, but already they had found themselves in a potentially problematic situation. Fred thought though that it was easier to hide things in a huge castle, rather than in such a small, overcrowded house where his Mother made it her business to ensure that nothing suspect was continued under her nose.

"Cause I've been with him all morning that's why and we didn't see any," Fred waited seeing whether he had convinced him not to go and find a George who rather than being in their empty bedroom still had his arms resting on his shoulders and fingers locked behind his neck. 

"Okay, thanks anyway, I'll catch you both later. Me, Harry, Mione and Gin are going down the village later; you're welcome to join us," Ron offered.

"Cool, we might come if we don't decide to do some business stuff," Fred informed him. "As long as _he_ stays out of my way that is."

"Yeah, I'll keep him out of range," Ron chortled. They heard his footsteps ascending the stairs to his bedroom beneath the attic and they both let out relived, nervous laughter.

"Well that was close," George sighed, as he threw another nervous glance at the door, as if waiting for somebody else to catch them in the bathroom together and start asking awkward questions. "I'll leave you to shower Freddie, but if we were at our flat...I'd be coming in with you baby," he winked at him mischievously as he moved towards the door. Fred smiled, a memory of many months ago rippled to the surface, George had been taking a shower to ease the sting of the bruises inflicted by the snatchers; he'd been washing his back when suddenly his twin had pulled him in with him. _Ah Georgie, our next shower together is going to be even more fun than that one_ , he thought. Time had seemed to go so slowly yet so fast from the Battle of the Seven Potters. He still couldn't believe that they were twenty already, when it had barely seemed any time at all since they were rebellious teenagers without a care in the world, free from worry. Twenty. How much longer would it be until people started to question their closeness, it was cute when they were tiny children, accepted when they were teenagers with the occasional urging of their Mother to start being more individual and now, how were people going to react to them now? For how long could they hide the true nature of their relationship? All these thoughts flashed through his mind in seconds, in the time that it took George to reach towards the door handle after carefully checking with his right ear pressed against the gap between the frame and the door that there was nobody on the landing outside or the stairs.

"Yeah, we'd better play it safe. If the younger version of me could hear me using that word he'd- well _I_ would be horrified," Fred smiled, as he moved to pull his pajama top over his head.

George paused with his hand on the bathroom's door handle "You may have changed Freddie, but you know I'll always love you no matter what and you know I think..." He let go of the bathroom door and pulled Fred closely to him again, again tilted his chin up ever so slightly so that the slight difference in their height was eradicated and their eyes were level. "That you were always like this, just that the sassy, badass side kinda took over." Fred kissed the tip of his nose in acknowledgement and dropped his head to George's chest where he felt his twin's long fingers slip into the smooth strands of silken hair to press him closer. "I love this side of you, just as much as the side that just kicked Harry's ass, metaphorically of course, although it was very close to being literally," he chuckled.

Fred lifted his head to smile up at him, his right arm draped around his twin's back and his left sat snugly on his hip. "I've never felt so angry, how could he have said those things to you?" Briefly the fire ignited in Fred's eyes again, but it quickly subsided to his usual cheerful sparkle. George smiled even wider; Fred's spark was beginning to return. There may be struggles and further conflict ahead of them, but in this moment with the person he loved most in the world holding him so tenderly it was impossible not to be happy. The anger that he still felt towards Harry, the fear of society's reaction that lurked in the pit of his stomach and the stubborn sensation that he shouldn't be here could do nothing to disrupt the beauty of this moment.

"Sure you're not mad Georgie; I can tell I embarrassed you," Fred asked quietly.

George regarded him with tenderness, but there was something else in his kind eyes that twisted a knife into Fred's heart; the ghost of a grief that still lingered, a temporary loss that could never be forgotten, one that would always strive to make itself felt in someway.

"At first I was a little pissed that you'd ignored him," he replied with the kind of honesty that formed the foundation of their strong relationship. "But I could never be annoyed at you for long, especially as I realised how lucky I was that you were still here to kick Harry's ass." George's voice trailed off and Fred quickly strove to banish the ghost of pain that stubbornly lingered. 

"It's okay Georgie," Fred comforted him. "I'm here...I'm here." He stroked his twin's silky, ginger locks and retreated an inch to examine his expression again. He saw that _it_ had retreated but not vanished completely; Fred didn't know how long he could keep it at bay for until George let it pull him into nightmares from which Fred could not defend him from or prevent. George sniffed and drew away again, approaching the door.

"Oh Georgie, forget what I said babe; I'm not letting you out of my sight," Fred said with fervor. But to his surprise George shook his head and attempted a watery smile.

"I'm fine Fred honestly. We can't get caught so soon... just make sure it's a quick shower right?"

"Right Gred," Fred smiled as he turned towards the shower and heard the quiet click of the bathroom door being shut. Filled with deep concern and a slight edginess caused by his twin's absence, Fred stripped off his pajamas and started running the water. He stepped under the warm spray and let it wet his hair; it's ginger brightness immediately turned a much darker auburn that was almost brown in colour. He tilted his head back and let the warm rivulets course down his neck and over his willowy form. He almost felt the touch of George's long fingered hands wrapping themselves around his waist and his chest pressing into his back as they showered together. The idea filled him with the kind of fuzzy feeling of happiness that made him glow. 

George crossed the landing to their room and pushed the door ajar to observe the dim interior and eerie stillness of their room, dark as it had been when it had been a place of deep mourning. Shivering slightly he stepped over the threshold and pushed the door too behind him. Crossing to the middle of the room he was suddenly overcome by a choking sensation almost as if he was being slowly suffocated, the air being wrung from his lungs until there was nothing left to draw breath on apart from the tears that threatened to overflow, as his head spun with images of Fred's still corpse. He felt cold, so cold, almost as if his beating heart was transforming into ice. He desperately needed Fred's warmth. Despite the fact that their room now seemed to be spinning, George attempted to stop the pieces of himself that Fred had glued back together from falling apart.  _I'm being stupid,_ he muttered into the still air.  _Fred is in the shower, just because I can't see him doesn't mean that he's..._ But the dark void in his soul that had not been completely refilled strived to replace the reality with the transient nightmare.  _Fred is here, alive and he loves me so why do I still not feel whole again?_


	31. Village of Secrets

George once again pushed the darkness away, but not as far from his core as he had managed to banish it previously. It was drawing closer and closer until eventually the nightmare would override everything, but its progress was temporarily halted by the sound of a melodious voice that suddenly began to emerge from the bathroom. The corners of George's mouth curved and he listened with a fascinated rapture to the depth and richness of Fred's voice. Its tones were both deep and yet capable of reaching a higher pitch, soothing and soulful, uplifting, but with a quality to it that made it almost mournful among the happiness that was radiated by the heart and passion of its owner. George focused on the sound of his love's amazing voice to banish his demons, knowing that Fred had started to sing to comfort him. As promised his twin didn't leave him for long, not breaking from his tune as he crossed the landing and turned the door handle.

_And you are all that I ever needed,_

_All that I ever wanted._

_To you my heart will always be true._

_Forever and Always... I will love you._

He held the last note as he approached George, where he had remained stood in the middle of the room, drinking in every word. Dripping wet with a fluffy wet towel knotted loosely on his hip, he slipped his arms around his twin's waist and pressed a soft kiss to the arch of his neck. George sighed and turned to regard him with a loving and slightly lustful smile on his face as he admired the way that the tiny droplets of water made his pearly skin radiate and added a subtle wave to his hair. Fred took in his admiring glance and smiled widely, sticking a hand jauntily on his hip and striking a ridiculous pose which dislodged the loose knot that he had tied. The towel slid to the floor, leaving George crying with laughter as Fred blushed furiously and collected it off the floor.

"You dropped something," the younger twin continued to laugh as his eyes drifted downwards.

"Oy, keep your eyes to yourself," Fred bantered back, grinning, as he lifted the towel to his hair to rub his damp locks.

"Phwoah, how can I when there's so much sexiness on show," George replied huskily, stepping closer. Fred stopped his movements, dropped the towel and allowed himself to be swept into George's arms and his lips gently claimed in a tender kiss that quickly became passionate. Hands slid softly over bare back and down over pert buttocks to make Fred moan and press closer to George. Both forgot to breathe amidst the wonderful feel of the other and they were forced to break apart gasping for air. They nuzzled noses and lay their foreheads together to gaze peacefully for a moment into the happiness that enamated from the other's eyes. George pushed a stray lock of damp hair behind Fred's ear, smiling at how his hair was beginning to grow out again to cover his ears. Much as he'd begrudged his own ruthless haircut after their sixth year, it had been the sight of Fred's luscious locks falling to the floor that had affected him the most.

"I love your hair long," he smiled happily.

Fred smiled back and stroked George's own hair, humming in assent. "Hmmm, I love yours like that too. Hey, I'd thought I'd try out a ponytail this time," he grinned.

"Sounds sexy," George intoned, trailing fingers down Fred's chest. "I liked what you were singing, but I've never heard it before."

"That's because I made it up," Fred smiled, unbuttoning several of the buttons on George's top.

"Oh, well it's really good. And who would you be addressing with it," George said in an offhand voice.

"This guy with the most amazing smile," Fred whispered leaning closer and slipping a hand through the gap that he had created to caress George's chest.

"Oh yeah," George attempted to keep a straight face as he ran a finger over Fred's right nipple.

"Uh huh, and extremely gorgeous eyes," Fred added leaning in even closer so that their lips were barely centimeters apart, before moving his face over next to George's remaining ear. "And most importantly the most beautiful heart in the world," he finished, his breath tickling his twin's skin.

"Next to you," George whispered back, cupping the back of his head to nudge Fred's lips back to his. Fred pushed his face forward to cover George's lips with his, a low moan reverberated through his mouth in response making Fred purr appreciatively. George closed his eyes as Fred filled him with a warmth that quickly spread down to his groin, a warmth that made the darkness recede even further. Fred slipped his arms tightly around his waist pressing their warm bodies together, as George eagerly twined his arms around Fred's lower back. This was what he wanted, what he needed. He slipped a hand between their bodies to wrap around Fred's exposed privates; he saw Fred's eyes go wide through his eyelashes and a look of pure lust settle in his eyes.

"George, I-"

"George are you getting in the shower or what?" Ron's voice was even more impatient than before and the twins jumped back like frightened hens, the warm feeling quickly receding.

"Yes Ron, don't get your pants in a twist," he grumbled before turning back to Fred. "We're going to have to get used to being interrupted I suppose." Fred nodded, before raising George's hand to his mouth to kiss each knuckle delicately.

"Go on Mister before Ron barges in on us," he smiled as he lay down on George's bed, making sure that he fully showed himself off. George goggled at him and rushed out of the room before he could become too aroused by the sight, the sound of Fred's bubbling laughter chasing him.

"Gotta problem Georgie?" He heard him chuckle after him.

 _Git,_ George thought to himself in amusement as he crossed through to the bathroom and walked over to the shower, stripping off clothing as he went. Fred had left the water running for him and he eagerly stepped under it, flexing his muscles to ease the stiffness in them. He hadn't been showering for long when dark thoughts began to once again plague his mind. _Where is your twin_ , a cold bodiless voice seemed to whisper in his ear.

"No," George muttered aloud, pausing in the process of lathering shampoo into his hair.

 _He's dead and you're never going to see him again_ , the voice in his head added with barbed cruelty.

"NO!" This time the twin shouted his denial and felt himself begin to panic, begin to question what was real and what was a dream. Had the last few days happened at all, had he merely imagined Fred telling him that he was in love with him? He fumbled for the door of the shower in his haste to check that his beloved was still alive, cursing when it caught in the frame. He leapt onto the bathroom floor and slipped on the wet tiles, his loss of balance sending him crashing to the ground; his forehead hitting it with a smack. He howled in pain as he felt a rivulet of blood trickle down his face from a cut that had formed from the sharp edge of a displaced tile.

"George! Georgie, are you okay?" He felt someone raise him off the ground under the armpits to a sitting position, before wiping away the stream of blood that had traveled to his jawline. Fred's face loomed into view, his eyes concerned but so full of life that George internally sighed with relief. He raised a hand up to Fred's cheek to touch him, just to make sure. His hand was greeted by the feel of soft, warm skin that seemed to welcome his touch. He needed to be touching that skin, it was only through being able to touch him that his ever present fear and now memory of separation was held at bay.

"Oh my sweetheart, it's okay," Fred cooed softly as he sank to sit on the floor beside George to gather him into his lap. He cuddled the wet body to him, his skin felt cool against the heat off his own. The revival of the haunted look in George's eyes sent pain coursing through him again, crushing him like the falling rubble had done. Fred shivered. George pawed at his chest, taking a great gulp of air to fill his heaving lungs.

"I know, my love, it's going to be okay." Fred slid his fingers into George's dripping hair to push it off his face and gently kissed the tip of his nose.

"I can't bear not being in the same room as you. I can't bear it Freddie," George said with earnest.

"Then I'm not letting you out of my sight darling," Fred promised him, feathering his lips briefly over George's who felt his heart flutter at the tenderness of his twin's touch.

"It's just...I," George tried. Fred tilted his face up to meet his still distressed expression.

"Tell me my love," he gently urged. George nodded and wrapped his arms around him, holding him as if he would never let him go.

"I still don't feel whole Freddie, part of me still doesn't feel right," George confessed. Fred gasped and held him ever closer, knowing that the only way to make George feel any better was through the feel of his body still alive and warm.

"It's going to take time for you to heal Georgie, but I'm here and I'm going to help you."

"But you're here...you love me... I have everything I want so why don't I-"

Fred began to rock him back and forth. "It's only been two days since you got me back- you just need time Georgie. I love you, I'll always be here. You've got nothing to be scared off, I'll look after you just like you look after me," he said thinking of the way that George had comforted him after the incident at the memorial service had made him hit rock bottom.

"I love you!" George returned, mashing his lips against Fred's. Never before had two people kissed each other as if it was their last day on earth, loved each other as if they were at risk of losing one another at any minute, held each other as if they were in the process of saying goodbye. After several long minutes that seemed to stretch a wonderful eternity the twins drew back slightly from the other; George wiping away suds of shampoo that were slightly tinged red due to the cut.

"I'm a mess," George smiled ruefully.

"Isn't everyone at some point in their lives," Fred comforted him, hauling him gently to his feet, before leading him back over to the shower to help him rinse the remaining suds of shampoo from his hair. He carefully wrapped a towel around his waist, maintaining a reassuring grip on his arm.

"George are you coming out of there yet?" Ron called on the other side of the closed bathroom door. Both twins reddened, the feeling that they were completely cornered flowing through their veins.

"Yeah, if you'll move out the way of the door. I don't like people looking at me just with my towel on," George called to him wincing and glancing at Fred to gauge how ridiculous he thought his attempt to get them out of this situation was.

"Well George I never knew you were so modest," Ron laughed. "I'll just turn my back if you insist, but I'm not moving, I don't want to lose my place in the never-ending wait that seems to be the queue to use this house's bloody bathroom."

Fred gave him a thumbs up and trying to restrain a laugh, George cranked the door open slightly to check that Ron indeed had his back to them as promised. Indeed, he was facing the stairs, the way he was holding his body clearly radiating his impatience. George took Fred's hand and they stepped through the doorway onto the landing, easily keeping their footsteps in time with one another to give the impression that only one person was crossing the landing rather than two. Despite the danger of the situation, it was so bizarre that they couldn't help but find the whole thing amusing and it was with the greatest difficulty that Fred managed to restrain the laughter that was bubbling up in his chest.

"George?" The twins froze, tensed up. "Are you alright mate, you sounded a bit off," Ron inquired with concern. Fred and George both immediately relaxed and reached the safety of their doorway.

"I'm fine Ron, thanks for asking though bro," he replied, inflicting some of his usual cheeriness into his voice.

Fred nudged the door shut in the frame behind him and unable to restrain themselves any longer they both burst out laughing. George clutched his sides; in that moment with the memory of Fred's lips still freshly imprinted on his subconscious and the beautiful humor of the situation the darkness was pushed firmly away and his eyes shined with his usual mischievous flair.

"What's so funny?" Ron demanded and the brothers turned lovers exchanged cheeky grins with each other.

"Oh you know Fred, he's a funny guy," George chuckled.

"That I am Gred," Fred beamed at him. "Now lets get that cut sorted out," he added in a lower voice in case Ron was still listening to them. He crossed over to the bedside table where George had left his wand and picked it up, clutching the broomstick like handle firmly.

"You know Georgie, if you're going to hide my wand from me, at least make sure that you don't leave yours lying around for me to use," he laughed.

George face-palmed and laughed too. "Well less to do with being a complete idiot than how much I trust your promise. And on a serious note I do trust you, just best not to have too much temptation for the moment hey?"

Fred nodded and pressed his lips momentarily to his with warmth. "Yeah babe, thankfully not as much need for a wand anymore anyway."

George smiled, "well you can have it back soon, you look far less depressed than you did yesterday," he said, a note of relief dominating the tone of his voice. Fred smiled with him, moving closer, moving his thumbs in small circles over George's narrow hips. He leaned their foreheads together to close the distance between them so that they were sharing air and met his gaze with love.

"Because you saved me of course, my angel," Fred murmured. "Oh saintlike one."

George had closed his eyes to better savor the feel of Fred's thumbs on his hips, but now he opened them again to observe the way that Fred was looking at him. The intensity of his gaze in conjunction with the contact of their bare skin sent a thrill right to his core and blood rushing to a place which craved the renewal of Fred's touch so much. Fred noted the obvious bulge in George's towel as his twin smiled back at him bashfully, opening his mouth to form an embarrassed apology. He didn't want Fred to think that this was nothing to him apart from the sexual and the physical, that he was so eager just to fuck him that he got turned on every time his twin touched him.

Fred slid a hand up his neck to rest on the side of his face, "hey, don't be embarrassed with me Georgie. I know what your're thinking, how could you imagine that I'd think that of you."

"I know...I didn't really Freddie, it's just that nine months of constant paranoia don't just disappear instantly," he sighed.

"I know exactly what you mean. If we're going too fast tell me, I want this to be perfect," Fred smiled tenderly.

George closed the gap between their faces even more and nuzzled the tip of his nose softly against Fred's. "Me too, I don't think we are, we've been in love with each other for nine months Freddie. We've basically been a couple for all of those months, just a couple that didn't actually tell each other how they felt."

"Mmmm," Fred agreed. "If people could have seen us when we were alone together, that's definitely what they would have thought we were. We were both such idiots," he laughed.

"The biggest," George laughed too, his laughter felt so close as his breath tickled Fred's face and he could smell it's sweetness. Their eyes drifted to Fred's bed, the sheets still rumpled and the pillows all askew. George longed for that sense of completeness that he knew he could only find in Fred and Fred desperately craved the moment when they would finally become one, as they were always meant to be...

"Hey, Fred! George! We're going out now if you're coming," Ginny's voice interrupted their line of thought and they rolled their eyes in frustration. As much as George wanted to lean in and kiss Fred's supple lips again, he knew that it would seem odd for them to want to spend such a nice day locked away in their room and right now they needed to avoid suspicion as much as possible. Fred nodded and shouted back to Ginny that they just needed five minutes to get dressed. But rather than moving to the wardrobe to pull out shirts they remained standing close together, arms wrapped securely around each other's waists. With a sigh George gave him a peck on the lips and traced his jawline softly. Fred's face was slightly rounder than his more angular features, the difference was so small but after taking in every inch of the other for twenty years now it was impossible for them not to notice those little differences in how their shared features were arranged; the differences that each believed to render the other twin more beautiful than them. George traced the curve of Fred's right eyebrow with his forefinger, over the bridge of his slightly larger nose and over the cheek that was dimpled in a smile at his ministrations. "I don't know how I'm going to get through all day without doing something inappropriate in front of people," George laughed.

"We should be fine, if we manged to go so long hiding from each other, than I'm sure we'll have no problem with other people," Fred assured him, as he finally let go from George's warm and comforting body that to him was home and walked over to their wardrobe. As he did do, a sense of loneliness momentarily swept over him before his feelings settled back down to normal. After their separation the need to be constantly making some sort of physical contact was overwhelming.

"I dunno about that," George mused. "I don't know whether I can control myself," he grinned mischievously. Fred turned from the wardrobe and winked at him.

"Yeah I'm irresistible I know. I feel like going for the same colour today. Is that okay?" George moved to his side to view the dark blue shirts that Fred had pulled from their wardrobe. He felt a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, no matter how old they got it would always be comforting to dress exactly the same.

"Definitely," his twin beamed. "Mum probably won't like it, but in all honesty I can't give a shit. We like dressing the same, it's nobody else's business really.

Fred joined him, two smile lines appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Now that's the stubborn defiance that I like to hear." Rosy lips were pressed against pale cheek, which was quickly replaced by another pair of rosy lips joined by equally pale skinned hands sliding up bare back to twine into beautiful auburn hair. Fred found himself being pressed gently against the wardrobe door that remained closed and the familiar weight of George's body leaning into him. He sighed with happiness as George dropped his attention from his lips to the nape of his neck, kissing and sucking the flesh with enthusiasm, now and then the moistness of his tongue could be felt lightly flicking against his heated skin. Boy, George knew how to drive him crazy. He dropped his hands to George's hips, drawing his body closer so that their groins were flushed against each other and they rolled their hips forwards in lazy circles to meet. They found the strength to break away before they were too overcome with need to quickly dress.

As they headed to the door Fred turned back and took George's hand in his, clasping it between both of his and meeting George's eyes with a burning intensity. "I just want you to know that even though we're going to have to spend so much time pretending that we're not in love with each other that this will always be real for me, not just in these moments that we can be alone. You're my boyfriend and I love you," he said, his tone earnest.

George swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat and leaped forward to embrace Fred tightly. " Me too, Freddie. Me too. I love you, so much."

* * *

They joined Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry in the yard outside. Chickens clucked around their feet searching for corn as birds twittered from the branches of their gnarled, old apple trees. Fred felt his stomach twist sharply with anger at the sight of Harry, but he composed himself. Harry hadn't meant what he'd said, he knew that now but forgiving him was going to be extremely difficult given the circumstances. Managing to keep silent he instead restrained himself to several rather dirty looks in Harry's direction. George smoothed down Gideon's green jacket that Fred was wearing again to give him an excuse to lean closer to him. Fred had checked whether it wasn't too painful for George if he continued to wear it; he didn't want his twin remembering how only such a short while ago it had dressed his corpse. "Try not to fight with him again," George whispered. "I know it's hard for you." Fred nodded, casting one last dirty look before going to stand next to Ron, closely followed by George.

"If looks could kill," Ron laughed loudly as the twins approached them. Ginny didn't join in, her expression souring.

"He deserves it," she snapped. Fred noticed then how unlike Ron and Hermione her and Harry weren't standing closely or acting like a couple at all. George's eyes too flickered over them both with concern.

"You're both still together right?"

"Just," Ginny affirmed. George ran a hand through his hair and looked from one to the other sadly.

"Well like I said don't fall out over me," he voiced with concern.

"Well I don't know Georgie, if he ever speaks to Ginny like that-"

"I don't," Harry said flatly. An awkward silence fell over the group. _This is going to be a long day,_ George thought as he took charge of the situation and injected some cheeriness into it.

"Right then let's go and have some fun. Did you ask Percy if he wanted to come?"

"Yeah and he said no thankfully. I forgive him, but I'm not sure I'd enjoy spending the day hanging out with him," Ron admitted.

"Well, we've got to try and make sure he still feels like part of the family right," George frowned.

"Right you are Georgie boy, everybody makes mistakes after all," Fred's voice drifted off, becoming more absent as he dwelled on all the mistakes that he had made over the penultimate months of the war.

"Indeed," Harry said eagerly, cottoning on to Fred's line of conversation as George met Fred's eye with worry, concerned that he was dwelling too much on things that he'd been beating himself up over. But Fred eased his mind by smiling reassuringly at him and leaning into him in what appeared to be a casual way, but still George could feel the love that radiated between them.

"Like how I made a huge mistake, judging by how angry you were," Harry continued as they began to walk towards the boundary of the Burrow. Fred raised one eyebrow sarcastically as he turned to regard him.

"It was right weird seeing you get so wound up," Ron joined. "You're usually such an affable, laid back kind of bloke.

"Well, Ron, if the person most dearest to you in the whole wide world was treated like a piece of shit, no matter how affable you generally were you'd still be mad as hell," Fred corrected him.

"Yeah I guess... Hey, I've never seen George get really angry before either. Would you get as angry as Fred if it was the other way around?"

"Of course, we can't stand each other being hurt. So I guess the same really wouldn't you say Freddie?"

"Yeah, though I tend to be quicker to anger. Whilst it takes more to wound George up he can be more violent for such a gentle soul." Everyone stopped and looked at George with surprise apart from Fred who laughed and slung an arm around George's shoulders affectionately.

"Yeah I amend my earlier statement to this. If you thought I was bad, you should see George!" He smiled at him and they swatted at each other playfully. "But he's still the gentlest, most loving soul I know," he murmured, daringly rubbing his hand along George's upper arm. Pleased, he saw that none of the others seemed to think much of it, they would be able to get away with quite a bit; though it would be probably going a bit too far for him to close the space between them further and kiss those beautiful lips that were slightly parted taking in air. Remembering himself, Fred removed his arm from where it was still resting around his beloved twins' shoulders as they reached the gate which led out onto the lane that would take them in the direction of the village of Ottery St Catchpole.

A considerable period of time had lapsed since they had last visited the village, but often during the summer holidays they had made the same trip down this country lane to walk around the shops together and marvel over the muggle contraptions that were being sold in them. Fred glanced to his right where a beautiful meadow spanned out as far as his visions stretched, which he knew lead to his and George's favorite old hiding spots in a wood bordering the meadow. He remembered them spending countless summer afternoons there in their own hidey hole that they'd discovered formed from a group of tress growing closely together, to wile away the time lazily, idly plotting the mischief that they were going to perform that day and coming up with more ideas for the joke shop that had been their dream since they were seven years old. George followed where he was looking as they walked behind the others and nudged him. "We'll have to go back there at some point," he suggested.

"Yeah that would be brill, we had so much fun there," Fred turned to smile at him.

His twin nodded, his mouth curving slightly lopsidedly. "And it would be a great place for us to be alone...unless it was raining of course," he laughed.

Fred blushed as he contemplated the sorts of things that George had in mind. Luckily the trio and Ginny were too absorbed in their own conversations to listen to the flirtiness that remained too obvious on George's tone. Fred stepped sideways towards him to lean into his shoulder as they walked. They exchanged devilish grins as they watched Ron reach for Hermione's hand before hesitating and pulling it back again. Noticing this Hermione smiled at him widely and reached to twine her fingers with his.

"Me and George wondered how long it was going to take for you lovebirds to admit your feelings for each other," Fred smirked. Ron whipped around to face them, a look of shock plastered on his face.

"You knew we both liked each other! How come you never gave me a hint?" Ron complained.

"Because that would have been cheating on the bet-"

"If we'd tried to speed things up a little," George finished grinning. "And I didn't want to jeopardize my chances of getting a foot massage, so thanks for snogging when you did guys. That reminds me...Someone still hasn't delivered on the bet," he grinned at Fred as the lane widened out and the twins moved to walk on the other side of Ron.

"You asked for a massage?" Ron's eyebrows were furrowed, his expression difficult to read as he turned to regard his brother.

"Of course, had to be something nasty didn't it, like rubbing my smelly, bony feet," George said with a laugh.

"Guess I'd better get it over with," Fred gave a convincing sigh while treating George to one of his fabulous winks.

Ron laughed, "Still should have given me a hint guys."

"Ron bro, we did try to help you at first if you remember-"

"Only you said that if we ever tried to interfere in your love life again-"

"That you'd kick our skinny assess-"

"Into outer Mongalia," Fred finished to a symphony of laughter.

"True," Ron was forced to concede.

Fred leaned in to George and whispered in his ear, his breath tickling the inner shell of George's remaining ear. "Are you sure it's only your feet that you want massaging?" He attempted to say in a husky voice that quickly descended into a giggle. George wriggled his eyebrows at him flirtatiously as the others turned to stare at them.

The lane ended at a style before re-emerging at the other end of a field where sheep were grazing the fresh spring grass. The twins climbed it easily, swinging their long legs over the top and dropping down on the other side to wait for the others, failing to hold back laughs as Ron got his foot stuck in the gap and had to be freed by Harry. The tense atmosphere from the morning's argument had virtually disappeared, it was impossible for everyone's spirits not to be raised by the beauty of the nature that was spread out before them after the darkness that they had all so recently escaped from. One of the lambs nudged at George playfully and he reached down to pet its soft wool as it bleated at him. It followed him to the style at the other end of the field and started bleating even louder as George made to climb over the style where Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were already waiting on the other side.

"Looks like it thinks you're his Mum Georgie," Fred said amused.

"Bye little guy," George petted the little lamb's head one more time before slotting his foot firmly on one of the style's wooden slats to hoist himself over it. He felt a warm hand on the arch of his lower back in what was evidently intended to be a steadying presence but nearly had the effect of making him lose his footing. But he managed to calm the way that his heart had suddenly started to beat faster with Fred's touch and jumped down with a significantly less amount of grace than he had exhibited the first time. As Fred climbed to the top he turned and offered his hand to his twin which Fred took without hesitation, jumping down next to him, their fingers still twined together. They exchanged a long look before remembering that the others were watching them and reluctantly dropped each other's hands.

As the group approached the end of the lane buildings began to come to into view. Ottery St Cachpole was full of small, quaint cottages with the traditional thatched roofs and flower-boxes underneath the windows. A cat crossed their path ahead, its black fur sleek and reflecting the spring sunshine as it slunk under a car that was parked in front of one of the cottages. The lane opened out into the center of the village where people passed them clutching bags full to the bursting with shopping. None of the Muggles had any idea that six wizards and witches were among them; all of them looked completely normal, dressed in jeans and with their wands kept hidden out of sight. The twins usually wore muggle style clothing all the time, it was a rare occasion since they had left school when they pulled on robes instead of one of their sleek suits. Stomachs rumbling, they approached a cozy looking cafe that lay adjacent to the village post office where not a single owl was to be seen carrying letters and parcels. Fred pushed the door to the cafe open, a bell tinkling as he did so, holding it open for George and the others to enter. Fred, George and Ginny went to find them a table large enough to accommodate their party whilst the trio joined the short queue at the counter to order some food.

"I bet you're still completely pissed at Harry, Fred," Ginny said as soon as they had drawn out chairs and sat down.

"Of course," Fred admitted. "But I'm taking Georgie's advice and leaving it, I'll have to be satisfied with his apology I guess. Besides we shouldn't really be arguing amongst ourselves now that things have turned out far better than we all expected nine days ago."

Ginny nodded and leaned in to hug Fred tightly. "I still can't believe you're here," she muttered happily.

"Me neither," George smiled at them both. Fred moved one arm from Ginny's shoulders to rub his arm affectionately and smiled too.

"Yeah we're lucky not to have faced in the end what other families did, burying their loved ones," he said solemnly.

George nodded, feeling the darkness attempt to creep up on him again at Fred's words, but he shook his head as if trying to free himself from its restraint and reminded himself that he had much to be thankful and grateful for in comparison to those other families. He turned to Ginny as she emerged sniffing slightly from Fred's arms before exchanging a meaningful look with his twin.

"Gin, me and Freddie, not that we're trying to interfere or order your life or anything...just wanted to check that you're happy with Harry," George began.

"Yeah, you deserve to be happy and after how complicated everything's been we just needed to know that everything's alright between you both," Fred added, his warm hazel eyes searching Ginny's for evidence that she was indeed happy in her relationship.

"Oh guys," their sister smiled. "You're the best brothers anyone could ever want. Yes, I love Harry; he can be a big git sometimes, but then I guess everybody is at some point. He just needs to realise that the weight of the world doesn't always rest on his shoulders alone, that he's got so many people around him who are just as capable of resolving matters as he is."

The twins nodded. "Good, we're glad. You make a great couple and you're the only way that Mum was getting Harry as her seventh son," Fred grinned. "And thanks for not telling us it's none of our business this time- we're just the concerned big brothers."

"Or the nosy ones," Ginny teased as Harry, Ron and Hermione reached the table carrying trays of food and drinks. Ron placed the ham and cheese toasties that the twins had ordered in front of them and sat down next to Hermione. George's stomach gurgled at the smell of the delicious food and he grabbed a sandwich from the plate, taking a large bite and shoving more in like a starved animal. The others stared at him, smiling as bits of melted cheese stuck to the corners of his mouth. Fred smiled widely, both for the fact that his twin was evidently starting to recover his appetite and because of the itching temptation to lean in and swipe at the stray cheese.

"And we thought that Ron ate like a pig," Ginny teased, as George finished half of a sandwich whilst the others had yet to touch their own food.

"I can assure you his manners are normally bordering on fastidious," Fred joined in the teasing. George locked eyes with him and they stared warmly at each other, before George swallowed his large mouthful.

"Just because you're a slob and I have standards," George laughed back. The others chuckled and tucked into their own plates of food heartily.

Mouth stuffed even fuller than George's had been, Ron turned to his girlfriend and asked in a rather muffled voice. "So are you enjoying our first date Mione?"

Fred paused with his toastie halfway to his mouth, noticing that George had done likewise and had stiffened, suddenly becoming more alert and wary, from the way that he had been relaxing before, leaning in to Fred slightly.

"Of course," she smiled, "though perhaps you need a napkin," she suggested, eyeing the food that stained Ron's mouth, without Fred's desire.

Harry wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders and reached a hand to stroke her hair gently. "Just as nice a time as we're having eh Gin?"

Fred interrupted them before Ginny had chance to answer him. "You're all on a date? Me and George wouldn't have come if we knew you were double dating, cause it's a little awkward now you've mentioned you are," Fred said.

"Double dating? More like a triple date," Ron grinned, bursting out with laughter as their faces fell, although not for the reason that he thought. "You two have been quite cosy lately," he carried on teasing whilst Ginny and Harry laughed along with him. Hermione however, didn't laugh but was regarding the twins curiously. Fred and George forced themselves to laugh, the falsity of each other's laughter echoing in their eardrums. Feeling sickened to the core at being forced to make a mockery of their love in order to protect their secret, Fred leaned into George, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"So enjoying our date babe?" He purred in a low voice, thankful that their ever present ability to hide their true feelings had not abandoned him in this critical moment.

"Oh yes gorgeous," George 'fake' flirted back, as Ron laughed even harder, banging his fist on the table. Fred removed his arm which felt like ice; there was none of that warm feeling now. He didn't realise how much hiding was going to hurt, as he saw George briefly lower his eyes into his lap and fiddle with his cuticles. The urge to reach out and comfort him tugged sharply at him, but he knew that he couldn't. Neither of them had anticipated how hard this was going to be at all.

"You two would get the couple of the year award," Ron continued to tease, laughing at them. George felt his mask begin to slip and he felt unsure of how much longer he would be able to maintain their charade. Thankfully, Ron got bored of teasing them and swiftly moved on to the subject of Potterwatch.

"It was bloody brilliant you know, completely cracked me up each time," he grinned. "Especially the joke about Snape and shampoo and you know... it was nice just to hear your voices, I really missed you guys," he smiled, waiting for them to start taking the mickey out of him like they'd been prone to do in the past. But to his surprise, their expressions softened and they smiled at him affectionately.

"We missed you too Ron," George smiled, as Fred nodded beside him.

"Yeah, it was horrible not having the family all together," he added.

"Awful," George affirmed, a smirk breaking out on his face. "Before we had to go underground, I was stuck with him for months on end," he smiled slyly, nodding at Fred. "Nearly drove me up the wall," he laughed now, as Fred shook his head in amusement.

"Well if my company offends you," he laughed too, making as if to get up and leave. George grabbed him around the waist tickling his side and pulled him back onto his chair, Fred trying to squirm out of his twin's grasp as tears of laughter escaped his eyes. The others watched their antics with glee, seeing the Weasley twins behave like themselves made it seem as if everything really was alright with the world, although even in the most destructive darkness still somehow they had managed to put brave faces on for everyone, keeping the darkness at bay with the aura of light that seemed to emanate from them. Slightly red in the face, with George smirking triumphantly, Fred eventually succeeded in escaping his infuriating tickling by slumping off his chair to the floor. George grinned down at him and reached to pat his hair like a Dog, as Fred 'barked' and made as if to lick his hand. George made the appropriate yuck sounds when really he rather would have liked to feel Fred's moist tongue on his skin. He shivered slightly, as Fred stopped messing around and hauled himself back into his seat.

"You should do another broadcast," Ron suggested. "I'm sure people would love to know that you're both okay...now anyway at least."

The twins exchanged looks and George quickly read on Fred's expression that the idea did not appeal to him at all. After the negativity that had been shown towards him at the memorial service, maintaining a low profile at the moment seemed to be the best course of action. Most people had probably guessed that 'Rapier' and 'Tentacula' were in fact Fred and George, they hadn't exactly tried to disguise their voices and for those people who hadn't known them they sure as hell did now. For Fred to cheerily let his listeners know that he was alive was sure to attract more censure from those who persisted in believing that he was flaunting his survival in the faces of those who had permanently lost their loved ones.

"Well, we kind of ended it," George answered for them both. "We didn't give people a password for another broadcast if you heard that one."

"Oh yeah I did," Ron nodded, "some powerful stuff, urging people to fight. But you can use the regular wavelengths now, there's no more need for passwords! Take the credit you deserve, it was genius and helped to keep morale up. People owe you both big time, as you put your own worries aside for the good of everybody else!"

The twins were stunned.

"Such high praise Ron," George eventually managed to answer.

"Yeah, thanks," Fred managed to croak out, still shocked at the admiration in Ron's voice.

"But after Skeeter, we're not exactly going to be the most popular people," George said sighing.

"Oh nobody's going to believe such rubbish!" Ron insisted.

"But they always do," Fred said quietly, as his eyes took on that far away look when your thoughts drifted away from the scene in front of you. George reached out to touch his face gently, not caring that the others were watching.

"Hey," he said softly. "People aren't going to believe that you're a spiteful bully if I can help it," he murmured. Fred pushed his face into the crook of George's neck to hide the luminous eyes that were rapidly filling with tears, as he imagined the reception that he'd receive when they next went among the others of their kind. George slipped his arms around his waist, cuddling him to his chest. Hermione watched them tenderly, noting the way that George's hand was rubbing Fred's back in small circles and the way that Fred inched as close to him as he could get. Here they were exposing themselves, raw and vulnerable; there was something of beauty about it, of sadness and of happiness all wrapped into one. More and more the four of them sensed that the twins were only now beginning to reveal themselves properly for the first time.

"We'll sort the bill out," Ginny said quietly as they all left the table to give the twins a moment alone. They heard George murmuring words of comfort to Fred as they walked back up to the counter.

"All their lives they've been strong for all of us, been the supports that held us all up, but I don't think they can do it alone anymore," Ginny said quietly as she glanced back at them.

"No," Harry agreed. "We need to be there for them and help them get through this."

When they had paid the bill they found the twins waiting for them by the door, smiles back on both of their faces, but the cracks were all too clear now. George nodded at them, placing a hand on the small of Fred's back to guide him out of the cafe. Unashamed they kept their arms around each other's waists as they headed towards a row of shops on the other side of the street. _Fred needs my comfort,_ George thought. _It's my turn to be strong for him now._

The village was busier than when they had first arrived, Fred kept casting looks in every direction, fearful that somebody would be there who would recognise them. But they were quite safe, there was nobody from their world there to set the rain falling from the dark cloud that now hung over them. The group approached a clothing store and walked inside to browse the items on display. The twins shuffled off to admire a range of shirts, whilst Harry followed the girls over to where they were considering purchasing some dresses for the celebrations that were sure to come soon, once the period of mourning was over. Ron followed his brothers where they were smiling with each other and exchanging compliments, much like an old married couple he thought suddenly.

"Hey Ron," they greeted him as they both flicked through the rack of shirts.

"They're nice," Ron nodded at the dark brown shirts that Fred had pulled from the rack.

"Yeah," Fred agreed as he considered them with slightly pursed lips. "Georgie, have you got any muggle money on you, I haven't." George rummaged around in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small wad of notes.

"We've got just enough, we do need to visit our vault though soon, as we are getting short on funds," George informed him.

"Righty-o," Fred nodded. "We've been meaning to talk to you Ron, sorry we didn't get round to it sooner, but things have been well rather dramatic."

"You could certainly say that," Ron agreed as he considered the last several weeks. "What about guys?"

"Well, we realised that we hadn't really spoke much about you going off and hunting horcruxes, it must have been hard for you worrying about us all and not knowing whether we were okay."

"Really hard," Ron admitted. "Harry and Hermione never really seemed to understand that, what with Harry's parents already being dead and Hermione's safely in Australia." His heart pounded and he was filled with shame as his thoughts drifted back to when he had abandoned Harry and Hermione in a moment when he had allowed his demons to consume him and his jealously of Harry to take over. The twins noticed his face cloud with what they perceived to be shame, judging by the slight tinge that was suddenly coloring his cheeks.

"Are you okay?" George asked him kindly.

"You too are so dammed perceptive," Ron grumbled, as he hid his face by turning to the rack behind them and flicking idly through some jackets.

"You should try it sometime," Fred teased him lightly, as he held up one of the brown shirts that he had been considering against George. "One of the best things about being an identical twin has to be the personal shopping assistant," he said chirpily, making George laugh.

He pretended to look crestfallen. "So that's all that I mean to you is it? A dummy for you to see how good you look in stuff." Fred reached to swipe his thumb down his cheek.

"I was actually thinking how good this looks on you," he murmured in a lower tone than the usual slight nasal quality that typically permeated Fred's voice. Ron took in the tenderness that accompanied the gesture and nearly started, he'd never seen them touch each other quite like that before. There was something almost _intimate_ about it, not just their usual closeness, but something physical. However his musings about this new behavior of the twins was cast aside as the worry about the events at the end of last year haunted his consciousness. Bill knew of course as he'd spent the Christmas at Shell Cottage, he'd been disappointed in him and they hadn't really talked about it much; although he'd promised not to tell anyone. His instincts were telling him to reveal what had happened to the twins, to get it all off their chest, after all it seemed to have helped Fred by telling George what was wrong. he had definitely seemed much happier when the pair of them had come down to breakfast, until the arrival of that dammed article that is. He knew that he could trust the twins, they were his favourite brothers after all, always had been. He may have often moaned about their teasing, but nevertheless he had still enjoyed it. Unlike his other elder brothers they'd actually taken a proper interest in him and they'd had a close relationship as children. He realised with sadness that ever since he had begun at Hogwarts and he'd befriended the famous Harry Potter that that childhood closeness had dissipated to an extent, as he remembered with further shame the countless times that he had brushed them off at school, had used them when he and Harry had been arguing in their fourth year, but hadn't made much of an effort to hang out with them as much as he should have done any other time. Fred had been dead, dead. And he hadn't seen him for nine months, there had barely been time for a quick hello before he had been killed. It suddenly struck him that he had never appreciated them enough, it had taken Fred being killed for him to finally acknowledge what they meant to him. He internally shuddered at the thought, _what if Fred had stayed dead?_ He knew that he'd been given another chance and he sure as hell wasn't going to waste it. With that thought in mind he opened his mouth to share his shame with them, when the other three joined them.

"Buying something guys?" Harry nodded towards the shirts.

"Yeah, we like these," George replied. The twins moved over to the till to pay, followed by Hermione and Ginny who had also decided to buy the dresses that they'd been admiring. Ron closed his mouth again and stood next to Harry awkwardly; he felt as if their relationship hadn't fully healed from the damage that had been inflicted on it and with the way that Harry had spoken to Fred that morning, things felt more awkward then ever before.

It was with relief that he saw the others walking back over to join them, together they left the shop and agreed to begin the walk home as Mrs Weasley more than ever hated her children being away from her. The twins were walking slightly ahead, joking together and leaning into one another with the kind of easy familiarity that made Ron wish that he'd been blessed with a twin brother. He excused himself from Hermione and jogged slightly to catch up with them, hearing the end of one of Fred's Umbridge jokes.

"Hey," he said, his tone unsure. "There was something that I wanted to talk to you about." Quickly, before his courage failed him, he launched into the story of how his suspicions of the nature of Harry and Hermione's relationship and his sense of inadequacy had lead him to abandon them at such a crucial moment.

"You shouldn't be ashamed Ron," Fred reassured him.

"Fred's right," George confirmed. "The war was difficult for everybody, made everybody question things about themselves. Even special relationships that you'd always thought were simple suddenly became so complicated with the war." He exchanged a deep, meaningful look with Fred which left Ron wondering what had taken place between them.

"Thanks bros," Ron said with gratitude.

"Don't mention it, we're always here if you need somebody to talk to," Fred smiled at him.

"Mum would be so bloody ashamed of me if she knew," Ron sighed.

"I wouldn't worry about that if I was you," Fred chuckled. "After this morning she didn't seem to be the biggest Harry fan anymore... We're sorry if you've ever felt that we overshadowed you, you know."

This apology made Ron laugh. "It's not you're fault that you're the funniest, cleverest and best looking out of all of us!" The twins looked bashful for this which made him smile. He came to wonder how he'd been able to consider himself the least loved of all their siblings with the way that their Mother had sometimes treated Fred and George. With them coming so close to loosing both of them that year however he felt reassured that he'd never again hear Mrs Weasley venting her disappointment in them. Only time would tell whether that was to be the case...

As they neared the Burrow they observed the suited and bespectacled figure of Percy coming to meet them, his face ashen. A sense of dread instantly filled all of them as their brains contemplated what could possibly have befallen them now.

"Perce? What is it?" Fred was the first to reach him, George closely on his tail. He noted the newspaper that was clutched in Percy's shaking hand.

"Some of the death eaters have escaped ministry custody," he said grimly. "Early this morning, a pack of Dementors helped them to escape. Kingsley has issued a statement saying that the others will be tried in due course and that the ministry is doing everything it can to find the others."

Fred's eyes again drifted to the paper that was clutched tightly in Percy's grasp, where he could make out several figures flickering in the moving pictures, although he couldn't see who they were. "Who's escaped?" He asked quietly, not being entirely sure that he really wanted to know the answer to his question. From the way that Percy's expression fell, he could see that he didn't want to tell him and noted how his eyes flicked with concern to George. Like a light bulb coming on in his mind, he knew instantly who one of those death eaters was. He made to warn Percy to keep silent, but he was too late.

"Augustus Rookwood," Percy nearly stammered. Fred squeezed his eyes tightly shut, at the sound of the name of the man who had been the cause of his death. Everyone was looking at George in utter dismay, Fred joined them as he opened his eyes again and he was horrified to see a coldness in George's eyes that he'd never seen before. It chilled him to the core, as the person standing by his side suddenly didn't seem to be his Georgie anymore.

"George," he croaked, as he turned to grip his twin's shoulders. "Please... don't do anything stupid, don't go looking for him, don't-"

"He killed you," George said flatly, the corner of his mouth twisting into what almost seemed to be a sneer. Fred was scared now as he reached a hand up to touch George's face and he tried to make light at the situation, but understanding that if things had been the other way around that the look on his face would be the same as the one on George's.

"Well that opens an interesting case doesn't it?" He tried to laugh, but the noise that came out was deflated. "Is it murder if the victim magically comes back alive?" His joke brought a few weak chuckles from the group, but no smile was to be seen on his love's face. The hearts of the group felt heavy, as the reality of what had happened to Fred was embedded into all of their hearts anew. Still with that disturbing coldness, all of his warmth and gentleness gone as if it had never been there in the first place, George reached out to take the paper from Percy.

"Great," he spat bitterly. "Guess who else has managed to escape justice?" Fred's heart sank again, of course she had managed to simper her way out of this as well.

"Umbridge", he groaned as George nodded, tight lipped.

"Yeah, the toad has gone underground as well," he said with anger lacing his voice. After what Umbridge had done to Fred's hand in one particularly torturous detention, Fred knew that Rookwood was not the only one who had the potential to drive George to do dark things.

Fred threw himself at George, placing the palms of his hands to George's cold cheeks, as cold as his eyes. "Georgie! Snap out of it! George! Don't let them turn you into somebody you're not," he said with fervor." Silence descended over the group, but eventually George met the concern in Fred's eyes and as quickly as it had come, the coldness melted from him and he too gripped Fred tightly, tears streaming down his cheeks as he murmured over and over again. "They hurt you, they hurt you."

"They're going to be brought to justice, it's only a matter of time," Hermione tried to reassure George, as Mrs Weasley bustled out into the yard, taking in the despondent looks on all of their faces, especially the look on George's face as he continued to squeeze Fred.

"Percy! You shouldn't have told them," she shrieked at him angrily.

"They had a right to know Mum," he replied firmly, standing his ground. With a last look at the twins, Percy followed by the trio and Ginny walked into the house. Mrs Weasley approached them with concern, reaching a hand up to rest on George's shoulder.

"You listen to your twin, they're not going to get away with this. Don't let go of who you are George, never, you're better than them," she sniffed.

Fred smiled at her sadly and lead George over to their orchard where they sank to the ground at the foot of a particularly gnarled tree, out of sight of the house.

"Well, we've certainly always got excitement in our lives eh Forge," George smiled, looking like George again. Fred pulled him into his lap, holding him closely and inhaling the sweet scent of his hair.

"Yeah, but not even this could ruin how happy I am now," he said with emotion as he tipped George's chin up to look at him. "Even this, the fact that lots of people probably now hate us and the fact that any minute our family could find out what we are and reject us, nothing could make me not appreciate this wonderful chance that we've been given to be together."

George clasped his fingers between his and lent their foreheads together, as several tears made their way down each twin's cheek with the weights that they had to bear, but still they also smiled with all the happiness in the world. Tragedy and comedy, darkness and light; the Weasley twins epitomized it all. Together they strove to let the light take hold against the darkness as with a moan of need they crashed their lips together and fell to the soft bed of grass where Fred leaned over George, kissing him with intensity. Neither spared a look back towards the house where any moment somebody could walk over and see them sprawled out on the ground like this, kissing with a mad, urgent need. George knotted his hands into Fred's hair, as Fred dropped a hand to George's hip to pull his body taut against his. George twined his slender legs over the back of Fred's calves as their mouths continued to merge together, not even breaking for air, instead they exchanged air. George slipped his arms around Fred's neck, tugging him close, feeling himself melt as Fred brushed his tongue along his lower lip. Several minutes passed like that, George felt completely exposed even through his clothing, craving as much of Fred as he could touch. What was coursing between them felt like electricity, all heat and spark. He slipped his tongue inside Fred's parted lips to trace the insides of his mouth, loving the taste and feel of his twin; all thoughts of Rookwood and Umbridge had vanished from his mind, as Fred's hips began to rock against his. They built up a beautiful rhythm between them, one that was uniquely their own,as George begged for more, as he he felt his body ache for Fred. Fred whimpered, his face contorted almost as if he was in pain as they rutted against each other in mindless ecstasy. Fingers trembling, George reached to unbutton Fred's jeans and free his twin's erect appendage from the confines of his pants. He was already leaking and throbbing with need. Watching Fred's expression with rapture, George closed his sweaty palm around him and pumped gently several times. With a loud moan Fred fumbled between them to undo George's own jeans and slip his hand inside. George arched his back to better increase the friction of their bodies sliding together. They removed their hands and let themselves rub against each other, gasping and trembling as their sensitized flesh slid together. George gave an extra loud moan when their tips touched together and he saw Fred's eyelashes flutter together with pleasure. That one sensation was enough to send them spiraling over the edge of pleasure and they shouted their orgasms, Fred's low moan of "George" was so loud that it seemed almost impossible for the occupants of the Burrow not to hear. With one final shudder that vibrated through Fred's entire body he sank heavily on top of George, who moaned and dropped his hands to Fred's bottom to squeeze him lightly through his jeans.

This was heaven, this was love, as George cuddled Fred close to him, his head resting on his chest where he could feel the pounding thud of George's heartbeat. Shaking, George drifted his fingers to the dip in Fred's neck where he could feel the insistent beat of his pulse, oh so alive.

"I love you," Fred mumbled against him, his bared member still pressed against his body and breath coming in gasps.

"And I love you Freddie, so bloody much," George murmured with passion, as the sun gleamed brightly down on them, igniting their auburn hair to shine vividly in the late afternoon sun. There was no sweeter innocence than the gentleness of their sin, the sin that made life worth living regardless of the darkness that circled overhead, for a time unable to intrude on the beauty of the scene that was drenched in love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day folks, hope you enjoy this romantic update after the many half past twos in the morning that I've spent on it! A huge thank you to my new beta reader alenafarlon! As usual I'd love to hear your thoughts, questions, criticisms and any suggestions for things you'd like to see in the rest of the story are very welcome. I can't be sure when the next update is going to be, but hopefully soon.
> 
> Weasley Twins2  
> P.S If anyone could recommend my story on the Feedback Fest I'd be super grateful, as I'd love as many people to read this as possible! The link to it is on the homepage of the website.


	32. The Calm Before the Storm

Over two weeks had now passed since that night of absolute hell, as the 17th May arrived and summer was almost upon them. A Summer that Fred had so nearly never seen. As George sleepily opened his eyes that morning he found it so beautifully impossible when he realised that today, he and Fred were celebrating their one week anniversary as a couple. The thought made him smile as he rolled over to face the sleeping figure that was sprawled out next to him in the confined space of his twin bed. So far, so good. They had made it through an entire week without a single soul becoming wise to what was transpiring between them. Years of sneaking around the halls of Hogwarts and plotting mischief had prepared them well for protecting their greatest secret of all, the secret that at one point had come close to breaking their relationship, but now served to bind them closer to one another than they had ever been before. The last week had been amazing George thought, to be able to simply relax after the constant fear that had prevented them from properly resting for the last nine months was complete bliss. They'd enjoyed long walks together in the surrounding countryside, talking over absolutely everything to make sure that they were of one mind again, every thought that they'd had and hidden from one another they had discussed. Both had been astounded at the amount of things which the barrier between them had kept from their twin; it was extremely disconcerting how they had been both so close and yet so distant that at times they had seemed like strangers who did not trust one another.

In addition to the beautiful time that they could spend alone together, it had also been amazing to spend time as a complete family, eating meals together in the crowded kitchen and all huddling around the fire at night to play exploding snap or Wizard chess. Charlie had not rushed off back to Romania, instead he was currently sharing Percy's room, Bill and Fleur having moved in to his and Charlie's old one. Fred's death having instilled in him the sense that he had missed out on being with his family for so many years since he had left Hogwarts; this was a mistake that he swore to himself he would never repeat again. The gaps between visits had been so long, he'd neglected his younger siblings so much. Fred and George had still been tiny terrors when he had first left, only to find two lanky teens in their place when he had finally bothered to make a visit home. The twins and Percy had been getting on more than they ever had done before, with Percy finally letting go of some of his arrogance and pompousness they found themselves to have more things in common than they had realised. Percy was incredibly thankful for the friendship that the twins had shown him since Fred's return, as he still felt guilt stricken and slightly uncomfortable when the family gathered together, feeling as if he didn't deserve to be there. To compound their happiness their usually tempestuous relationship with their Mother had ebbed to a calm sea, for how long they didn't know, but nevertheless, they enjoyed the way that she was constantly fussing over them after what they had been through and treating them as if they were her favorites. Was it merely the calm before the storm? Ron and Hermione had left the Burrow a couple of days previously in order to go and find Hermione's parents in Australia, both twins hoped that Hermione would be able to restore their memories, but they had every confidence that being the brightest witch of her age that she would have no problems doing so. They'd also exchanged letters with their friends, who were enthusiastic about catching up with them and celebrating Fred's shocking escape from death. With everything right between them, the twins were feeling more sociable than they had done in months, but still there was the nagging worry in the backs of both of their minds about whether the dynamic of their friendship group had not been permanently damaged by the conflict between Fred and Angelina.

But no matter how amazing the last week had been for the twins, it would never be perfect with the weight of the Rita article still hanging heavily around their necks, Fred's especially. As he had feared she had picked him out as a target, as two days ago another hurtful entry had appeared in the Prophet, analyzing out of all the people who had died who was the most worthy and 'useful' person that deserved to have been saved from the clutches of death. Inevitably, Fred had been ranked at the bottom in worthiness, leading Skeeter to conclude that the victim who had lived in the end was the person who deserved to be dead. Cedric, who had been in the twins year, she judged to have been the one who should have been given a chance to live, as he was everything that Fred wasn't: _Handsome, kindhearted and a true hero._ The worst thing was the fact that she was not alone in her opinions, as included in the second article had been the assertions of others that if they could have chosen anyone to live, than Fred would certainly not have been their choice. He had felt as if a large brick had been tied around his neck to pull him down to the depths of a deep pool, to drown in his sense of worthlessness. But George's love, what he meant to his twin had kept him away from indulging in those sorts of thoughts too often. So he had laughed as he had watched his Georgie carefully tear the cursed article into pieces and consign it to the hungry orange flames of the kitchen fire with a grim kind of satisfaction.

Fred grunted in his sleep as George leaned over him to press sensual kisses against the sensitive skin where his jaw and neck met. The corners of Fred's mouth twisted into a half smile, but he continued to sleep on. George cocked his head to the side, smiling to himself as he watched his twin sleep, trailing his fingers over his lean chest, down over the flat planes of his stomach to the hair that was as soft as that on his head. It was commonly said that time was supposed to heal a broken heart, yet George found that his refused to heal. He was having more and more moments where he believed himself to be in a dream that his grief ridden mind had conjured as a defense, so that he was finding it increasingly difficult to decipher the truth amongst it all. The pain of loss haunted him almost nearly as much as if Fred was newly dead, as he had allowed himself to become trapped in the sort of 'what if' questions that had the ability to drive even those who were as strong as George crazy. And, of course, he couldn't forget that out there somewhere was the man that had done this to him and Fred. He had thought that he hated Umbridge, but what he felt for Rookwood was almost on another level entirely. Although, the fact that Umbridge remained at large also served to bring back memories which were best left forgotten, as his mind drifted to the time that Fred had been gone for hours on end and had returned shaking with blood streaming from his hand. Red blurred George's vision. God there had been so much blood. So preoccupied had Harry been by his own personal battle with Umbridge, that he had failed to notice how the twins were also suffering at her hands. Not one week had they managed to escape detention with her as the twins represented everything that she hated, from their defiance to authority, their quirkiness, their unconventional behaviour, even their rare duality that seemed to go against the 'natural' order. They had joked that she had a phobia of twins, particularly the identical kind. Nothing about them seemed 'normal' and so she had hated them, trying to force the weird out of them with every scratch of the quill that seared pain into their hands. George held his left hand up to the light that was beginning to penetrate the room, they were barely visible, but still a few faint marks could be seen. He couldn't quite banish the uneasy sensation that Umbridge had been biding her time until she could punish them for making a fool of her in their legendary exit from the school.

But his thoughts were jerked pleasantly back to the present by the sound of Fred muttering his name in his sleep and urgently patting the duvet as if in an effort to find him. George instantly slipped his arms around him and pulled him to lie on his chest for a cuddle. Almost immediately Fred stopped thrashing around and settled against him peacefully, mumbling against his chest. George slipped his fingers into his twins' hair to stroke his scalp in the way that he knew Fred liked.

"Freddie," he whispered, eager for him to wake so that he could share in the surreal realisation that they had been together for a whole week. The slight alteration in his breathing signified to George, who knew him so well, that he was beginning to wake up. It was with pleasure that George watched and felt Fred's chest rise and fall, after what had happened George appreciated the signs of life more than he ever had before. He shuddered at the memory of seeing him lying so cold and uncharacteristically still on the floor of the hall and squeezed him tightly, almost like a scared child would clutch its teddy in comfort. The increased pressure on his chest served to rouse Fred far quicker and his eyes jumped open rather than flickering as if uncertain whether to wake up or drift peacefully back to sleep as they usually did.

"George?"

"Morning babe, sorry for the tight squeeze," George mumbled apologetically, but without relaxing his grip.

"That's okay," Fred yawned. "I like you holding me like this," he smiled, gradually becoming more alert and shaking off the remnants of sleep as he pressed his mouth sloppily to George's chest. He giggled, pulling Fred on top of him even more and crossing his legs over the back of Fred's calves.

"You realise what today is, don't you?" George enquired softly, as he continued to massage Fred's scalp.

His twin's eyes visibly brightened and he raised himself on his elbows to lean over George, before darting in and kissing him wetly on the mouth. He withdrew, beaming, to regard him, cocking his head slightly to the side, mirroring George's earlier movement. "Yes, I'm the luckiest person alive to have had you as my boyfriend for a whole week," he whispered huskily.

"It's been the best week of my life," George confessed, reaching up to trail his fingers over Fred's cheek in awe that the smiling face looking down on him was really his.

"Mine too," Fred continued to smile. They stared at each other for several minutes, losing track of time. George felt that he could quite happily lose himself in those eyes that were so vivid, so full of life, light, and happiness. He didn't ever want to see that light fade again, swearing to himself that he'd do whatever he could to keep it burning fiercely, to make Fred as happy as he deserved to be. Fred of course silently swore to himself that he would do exactly the same thing; he never wanted his beloved George to ever suffer like he had done again.

"You know, I never imagined that I'd be gay," George mused, continuing to lazily rub his fingers in small circles against Fred's scalp.

"Well, I'm not sure that I consider us to be gay actually," Fred said in an offhand voice, which nevertheless had the effect of making George start.

"We're boys," he said, confused, making Fred laugh.

"Oh, I know you are," he winked at him, making his twin turn a particularly bright shade of crimson. "But I love only you, and I do believe the definition of gay is being attracted to men in general."

George burst out laughing. "Freddie, I don't think 'George' is going to become a sexuality anytime soon. I'm sorry to say it, but you're gay as hell."

"Yeah I am," Fred grinned. George kissed the tip of his nose before working his way down to his mouth and kissing that just as tenderly. He leaned in to kiss Fred again but withdrew slightly to smile at him again.

"I know exactly what you mean though of course," he murmured. "It's only me."

Fred nodded intently."Only you, it's always been you," he sighed, leaning in to his neck and lathering attention on it with his mouth and tongue.

"Me too," George manged to let out as the feel of Fred's tongue engaging in some exploratory licking had shivers of pleasure course throughout his body like a shock wave. "I won't be giving Lee's arse a once over anytime soon," he joked.

Fred momentarily paused in his ministrations to look up at George, "I hope not or you won't be getting any more of this," he bantered back. "Although now that I think about it, perhaps you're right after all." A mischievous spark lit his eyes and his lips twisted into his habitual smirk. "There was this guy in the village that I noticed who was hot as-"

"George, yes your sexuality is 100% George," his twin spluttered out, pretending to be jealous. Fred chuckled and twisted his fingers into George's hair to gently pull his face up to meet his in a searing kiss. Moans permeated the room as their lips worked together to send tremors spiraling throughout both of their bodies, only separating occasionally for air, although even this momentary loss of contact was insufferable and so they soon settled comfortably into recycling each other's air so that they could kiss for longer without being forced to break apart. Fred pressed his chest to George's, although still being careful to support the majority of his weight on his knees to avoid making George uncomfortable, but George it seemed wanted to feel him resting properly on top of him and pushed with only a slight pressure at Fred's knees to encourage him to lie down. Fred relented and George bared his full weight which was easy with Fred's lean build.

"Don't worry you're not that heavy," he reassured him, as he leaned in closer to suck on Fred's earlobe. Fred gave a loud 'umph' in pleasure as his hand slid down to hold George's hip and lift it so that George could hook his right leg around Fred's waist as he slipped his hands over Fred's back, caressing the smooth expanses of skin. Fred 'umphed' again and rolled his hips forward to press his heated shaft against George's. He sighed and muttered something that sounded like 'home'. George moaned and rolled them so that now Fred was underneath, unable to do much anymore apart from gasp and murmur at the feel of his twin's hands all over him. George looked down at him in awe, Fred was so beautiful like this, there was almost something vulnerable about him, as he gave himself to the emotions that he had suppressed for so long. George swooped in and kissed him sloppily, saliva connecting them briefly as he pulled away to his neck, trailing a wet path over the sensitive skin. The feel of George's tongue sent even more powerful shivers throughout Fred's body to his core. He reached out to their bond and felt George doing the same as magic danced between them. Fred felt George's mouth slip down his neck to run along his collarbone and down to his nipples, as he licked, sucked and kissed every bit of his twin that he could find. Fred had extremely sensitive nipples and as George was relentless he was soon moaning, his head thrown back in sheer bliss. George beamed, enjoying his twin's reaction, how he loved being able to bring him pleasure like this. The fact that they both gave and received equally made their physical relationship all the more wondrous.

George began to work his way further down Fred's torso, Fred's fingers following his head down to caress his glossy hair. He dipped his tongue into his bellybutton and swirled it around, bringing yet more loud moans from his twin's parted lips. _You're so beautiful,_ he thought, as he paused for a second to look up at Fred, his eyes were now half shut, his gorgeous long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. George turned his gaze downwards to regard Fred's half erect member, which was slightly flushed at the tip and starting to become firm. He ran a finger along it and cupped one of his balls to massage it softly, causing Fred's moans to intensify to another level. George renewed his kisses under Fred's belly button, edging further and further down into his soft pubic hair. Freddie suddenly became still, waiting on edge wondering if George would dare to take that next step. He trailed his fingers down over George's cheek in a loving way that said _I'm ready for this if you are._ George squeezed Fred's hand gently in response and nuzzled at the dark auburn hair surrounding Fred's member. Feeling as if his heart was beating as fast as a hummingbirds he pressed a kiss to his love's stiffened cock, his own burning with pleasure at the noise that Fred made in response. Fueled by Fred's reaction he pressed more kisses down its silky length, loving the taste of it. It was everything that he had hoped it would be and more besides. Curiously, he licked the tip lightly; Gods Fred tasted good. With more confidence now he licked up and down Fred's shaft, checking up every now and then to see if he was doing it right. Judging from the kind of noises that Fred was making he certainly was. Fred's usually pale complexion was flushed and he was being so loud that George half feared the rest of the house would be able to hear, despite the silencing charm that they had placed over their room. It was a risk using one as not to have any noise coming from the twin's room had always been an immediate indicator to their Mother that they were up to something. And they were definitely getting up to mischief here...

"Georgie," Fred managed to croak out, stroking his hair frantically. "I-I love...oh...oh...you." George felt as if his heart would melt as he flicked his tongue downwards and circled it over the head, tasting the salty tang of precum. It didn't exactly taste good, but there was something so Fred about that taste nonetheless that made it far from unpleasant. He licked his lips to savor the taste before leaning in closer and allowing his lips to softly envelop one of Fred's soft testes. Fred gasped, his back arching from the bed slightly and he kneaded his fingers more tightly into his boyfriend's hair. He felt happiness bubbling up inside his chest until it seemed as if he must burst with the joy of such intimacy with his beloved Georgie. Despite the pleasure that was so overwhelming that it blurred his vision slightly, Fred looked down at his twin and took in the way that his eyes shone as he sucked; the adorable way in which his cheeks dimpled as he smiled through his mouthful.

"Oh fuck Georgie, baby... feels so...good," Fred moaned. George slipped his mouth off Fred's flesh with a wet sucking noise and grinned up at him.

"I just knew you'd enjoy this, you naughty boy," he teased, circling his thumb over Fred's hipbone making him shiver. He kissed his other hip and returned his attention to the head which was leaking more white fluid, stroking his tongue along the underside and then around the head. George brushed his lips against the head and began to taste him more deeply as he took it into his mouth. The feel of his twin inside his mouth was comforting, not just purely sexual, as he brushed his nose against him and inhaled his warm scent. He steadily increased the vigor of his sucking, taking more and more of Fred into his mouth as he did so, until he was nearly hitting the back of his throat. Fred whimpered and whined, keeping up a steady beat of "George, George," as his twin lovingly sucked him off. He enclosed Fred fully in his mouth and Fred groaned loudly as he felt himself be immersed in George's wet, delicious mouth. He'd waited so long to be close to him like this, there'd been so much pain, doubt about his twin's feelings and even time's when his thoughts had turned suicidal, wanting an escape from the pain, but all had been worth it in the end. George's fringe flopped over his beautiful chocolate orbs; Fred gently stroked it out of the way so that he could continue to watch his expression, awe filling him as George seemed to be enjoying every moment as much as he was. Fred desperately fought the urge to buck his hips into George's inviting mouth, sensing this George slid his hands up his smooth thighs to hold his hips steady. It began to become too much when George started swirling his tongue over Fred's heat whilst continuing to suck, slicking him with saliva up and down. His groin burned and Fred felt the pleasure begin to surge in that all consuming way that he'd only felt several times, as he began to peak in orgasmic pleasure. His words of warning to George were lost amidst raspy moans as he weakly tried to push his head away, but to the orgasmic sensations was added a warm fuzzy sort of feeling as George took the hand that was nudging against him and slipped his fingers lovingly through Fred's; his gentle brown eyes silently communicating that this was where he wanted his twin to come. It was that loving look that sent him over the edge, sent his pearly liquid streaming down George's throat who eagerly swallowed and pumped him for every last drop, feeling his own member twitch pleasurably at the sensation of his twin climaxing. Fred screamed George's name as he continued to peak, the waves of pleasure almost becoming too much. Stroking each other to orgasm was one thing but this, this was heaven. With a loud pop, George slipped off Fred's cock and smiled in the way of someone who was satisfied with the work that they had done. Fred's mouth was still wide open almost in shock as George nuzzled at his crotch and proceeded to finish cleaning him up. He shimmed up Fred's body to his head and darted down by his left ear.

"Mischief managed," he whispered in a deep voice that was so sexy Fred very nearly came again. "Are you okay darling," George stroked his forehead as Fred continued to lie there still with his jaw slack as he watched blankly as George wiped away a dribble of cum that had trailed down his chin.

"George," Fred managed to croak. Immediately he was swept up into a strong, yet tender embrace and felt his cheek come into contact with George's, Fred slipped his arms over his love's naked back in small circles, drawing several appreciative murmurs from George. "Oh George, that felt incredible."

"It was hard to tell," George couldn't held but tease, even though his mind had turned to more serious thoughts. The darkness loomed again, reminding him that if fate had not been defeated then they wouldn't be here like this; their mutual secret dividing them even in death.

"Thank you," Fred gulped out, feeling tears suddenly fill his eyes. He felt incredibly silly but George understood, cuddling Fred close he pressed his lips warmly to his. Fred could faintly taste his own cum on George's breath as they kissed urgently. After all the agony, all the self hatred Fred finally felt as if he was starting to make peace with himself. Before, he had still felt slightly disbelieving every time that he had woken up in the past week, that George had returned his forbidden feelings. Now, with the memory of George's mouth on one of the most intimate parts of his body he would never need to fear or doubt George's feelings again. Their emotions stood clearly between them now, their love no longer hidden but open, naked and raw for the other to see.

"You're so beautiful like that you know," George began quietly, as Fred traced a thumb across his jaw. "When you just give in to it like that, it makes me think that you're starting to accept who you are."

Fred flicked his own fringe out of his face and stared down at George where he lay on his side facing him; Fred's right leg slotted cosily between George's thighs. "I am," he nodded, with a growing semblance of his old confidence. He wiggled his left eyebrow at his twin and stretched his arms outwards to their full span. "I only hate myself this much now," he said with the air of someone imparting something they considered to be a piece of good news. It seemed the twins had finally found something substantial to disagree on. George raised himself on his elbow to regard Fred with a look that was crossed between exasperation, humour and concern that Fred was not yet completely free from the depression which had been his own personal prison.

George placed his palms against the back of Fred's hands and pushed them further together so that they were only 30 cm apart. He leaned in close behind him and inched his hands in further still, lips pressing against the back of his neck as he did so, until they were touching. "You can't possibly love yourself nearly as much as I do, but I won't rest until you start seeing at least a semblance of what I see," he finished in a whisper. Fred turned his head to the side to meet his kind eyes, love burning from his own.

"I still haven't given you your much deserved massage oh my beautiful holey one," Fred said with a sparkle in his eye. George felt himself nearly melt in Fred's tender hold as he was rested against the pillows. Fred straddled his waist, the position sending mental images of what they could be doing with Fred's rear rubbing almost teasingly against George's groin. Dexterous, slender fingers trailed a path up his chest to take hold of his shoulders. Fred could feel the tension caught up in George's muscles as he endeavored to relax him and free the build up of weeks of strain. He massaged the skin with skilfully technique, gradually easing out the knots and also evoking soft moans from George and the occasional grunt as Fred pressed down more firmly onto his groin.

"Bloody hell Freddie," he sighed. "Forget 're-opening a joke shop, we'll convert it into a massage parlor. People will be queuing up to have you give them massages."

"Oh, so you wouldn't object if Angelina happened to be in that queue," Fred couldn't help but return George's earlier teasing. His twin smiled lazily, eyes closed and his mouth curved in a smirk that was almost unashamedly triumphant.

"Yeah forget the massage parlor, the only person you're touching mister is me. Most people would love being the object of two people's affections," he smiled, as Fred moved to rub his upper arms and then down to the planes of his stomach. It filled him with a relief tinged happiness to see that although George was still noticeably thin, his ribs were no longer as predominant as they had been just a week ago under the creamy richness of his skin.

"Most," Fred agreed. "But there was only one person who I wanted. You know I was never really sure whether Angelina actually loved me. I mean she didn't know the real me so... it was kind of impossible for her to be in love with me, even if she thought that she was. It was the cocky, extrovert, side of me that she saw; I know that she wouldn't be too keen on what was underneath," he rambled.

George nodded, stroking his hair out of his face. "I want to say that she genuinely had feelings for you, but the more I think on the way that she showed you off when you were going out, that you were a trophy boyfriend. I mean I'm sure that she does care about you...gee things between you both got complicated really quickly," George said with a thoughtfully expression.

"And they're so amazingly simple with you my love," Fred sighed happily, as he continued to massage George's skin much to his twin's pleasure. "I'm so sorry that you got caught between us both. Turn over babe," Fred instructed.

"Don't be sorry," George said his voice gentle. "None of what happened with Angelina was your fault. It was such a difficult situation for both of us at the time, especially you. We were both thinking that we'd better start acting like normal teenagers even though our hearts could only belong to each other and not a girlfriend. I was so confused by what I felt whenever I saw you and Angelina together, it was only two years later that I finally understood why." He rolled over onto his front, propping himself up on the pillows as Fred took in the beautiful expanse of skin covering his slender back. He trailed his fingers lightly over the tiny moles that were scattered here and there, before starting to knead his shoulders, steadily working his way down to his lower back. George sighed and muttered about how good it felt.

"I should win bets more often," he said, turning his head to smile at Fred over his shoulder.

"No need now twinno, you can just ask me for a massage," he grinned. "There's no longer any need for us to think of excuses for touching each other inappropriately," he said, making quotation marks in the air. George struggled to refrain from making noises that really were inappropriate; Fred caught his expression in the mirror over their chest of drawers and began to laugh, but having a better idea forced himself to pretend that he hadn't noticed. Instead endeavoring to make the massage as sexual as possible, slid their buttocks together where he was still sat astride him and leant forward to kiss the back of his neck. George couldn't help but release a moan now as Fred kissed a path down his spine. He shuffled backwards to work on the back of George's thighs and eventually his buttocks. This had his twin pressing his face into his pillow where muffled grunts could be heard emanating every now and then. Fred smiled triumphantly, just as much as George had enjoyed seeing him abandon himself, so he loved seeing the normally so calm and steady George cast off that outer layer of restraint.

"Freddie," he whined, as he momentarily stopped to simply absorb every angle of George's body and commit what he already knew so well but now on a much more intimate level to memory.

Fred rolled him back over to his front, shuffling further down the bed and finishing with his calves and feet, rubbing each foot carefully between his hands.

"Feel better?" He inquired smiling, as he looked down on George's flushed face. Both of their attention quickly shifted however to George's bulging privates, they locked eyes, one twin smirking, the other looking extremely sheepish. Fred bounced forward to lock lips with George, palm resting against the side of his neck and fingers weaving up into his hair. He retreated slightly, their lips were barely inches apart and Fred's expression turned from one of fondness to the expression that was so pleasantly familiar to George. The look he had whenever he was about to get up to some act of mischief or had just though of one of his brilliant ideas.

"I do hope that you won't be needing your vocal cords for the rest of today my beloved Georgie," he intoned saucily.

George's eyes flicked up to his surprised. "Oh?"

"Because you won't be able to," Fred finished with one of his irresistible winks, as George quickly catching on blushed even redder, as Fred ducked down and proceeded to show his twin just how much he loved him with an eager heart and mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait for this update guys, I hope you continue to enjoy it! As always I'm more than happy to answer any thoughts or questions that you may have. I may be going back to a previous chapter and adding something in which I have recently thought of, I will indicate where when I have made the edit. Another huge thank you to my beta reader alenafarlon and to all of you for the feedback and kudos that I've had!


	33. Among the Ashes

Just as his twin had promised, half an hour later, George had indeed seemingly lost all ability to speak. As he lay spread eagle over the pillows he regarded Fred with a gaze that was bordering on worship. Fred grinned down at him, licking his lips to savor the remaining taste of his George. He kissed the palm of the hand that was reaching up to him reverently, utterly cherishing the feel of his lover's warm skin. His ear drums and the rest of his body tingled pleasantly with the echo of George's moans of 'Freddie' and the occasional 'oh Frederick'. George heaved himself up on the pillows, now smiling with an expression that was slightly vacant. He looked lost in the clouds, but what had once been a far-fetched fantasy was now a solid reality that could no longer be assailed by doubt. He trembled, feeling the ghost of Fred's tongue gliding along his flesh like a heavenly touch.

"Freddie," he murmured, opening his arms to his twin for a cuddle. Fred eagerly lay his head on his shoulder and trailed his fingers down over George's chest, noting how the rate of his breathing was still much faster than usual. No words were needed to communicate their love, their joy, at such intimacy that now existed between them. It was dizzying, soul fulfilling, and electric all at once. They could feel each other through their shared bond as they had never been able to before; both closed in on that connection, held fast to it. Each would never let it fade away. It was, after all, the sole reason why Fred was still there. Few entities had succeeded in conquering death, but the love of the Weasley Twins was one of those that had triumphed over fate.

Still in the grips of their mutual bliss, the sounds of life from downstairs prompted them to rouse themselves from their euphoric state and draw out clothes from the wardrobe. They donned their usual assembly of shirts and skinny jeans; George in Fred's striped yellow shirt and Fred wearing a purple checked one of his twin's. It wasn't that they were expecting to pull their usual trick of mistaken identity, that hadn't been possible since George had lost his ear, but to take comfort in the scent of the other that remained ingrained in the fabric despite numerous washes. They turned to head for the stairs, but not before they had shared one last knowing look that was full of love. Fred bounded down the stairs, with George close at his heels, both equipped with their old love of life, but coupled with the new perspective that had been developed over those difficult months. War had changed everybody, but in the twins that change had been profound. They had lost their naivety. Their almost child-like belief that they could run through life laughing without being tripped by pain, fear, and in Fred's case particularly, a self hatred that had left them questioning who they were. In many ways he was the old Fred: charismatic, witty, exuding an aura of confidence. But now he embraced that side of him that was serious, sweet and even a little shy at times, rather than striving to cover it with his alter ego. And George, as always, remained gentle, loving, possessing a gift for sarcasm and self deprecating humor, but like Fred his character had developed significantly. Life had been exceedingly cruel to him that year, it had taken his ear then the devastating loss of his twin had shattered him, but the months of tribulation had made a person who was already strong even more resolute; a firm rock for his troubled twin to cling to and climb out to safety from the turbulent sea of despair. Out of the two of them his sensible streak had always been the more dominant, now it defined him in a way that it had not done before, but ultimately he knew that he was still a mischievous prankster at heart.

With a new lease on life, they bounded noisily into the kitchen. It was the kind of entrance that was typical of them, energetic and attention grabbing; it ensured that all eyes in the room were focused solely on them. The delicious smell of toasted waffles and maple syrup assailed their senses as soon as they entered the room, along with the scent of freshly ground coffee beans. They greeted their family with a cheery chorus of 'morning folks' and slipped into their seats next to Percy at the long kitchen table, which since the Battle had been extended to accommodate their increased number. Mrs Weasley was busy by the stove, stirring a large black pot of porridge, whilst flicking her wand idly at the dishes that were cleaning themselves in the sink. On the sideboard, knitting needles clicked together rapidly, as they twisted bright red wool into one of their Mother's famous Weasley sweaters. _This is normalcy_ , the twins thought, as they surveyed the kitchen fondly. Ever the ones ready for adventure and excitement, they had had far too much of it in one year and therefore welcomed the familiar scene of domesticity that was a welcome calm after the cries of battle and flash of spells.

George pulled the stack of waffles on a wooden serving platter towards them and dished several onto each of their plates, whilst Fred applied generous amounts of the sweet nectar that is maple syrup onto them. Waffles were the twins favorite breakfast item; the fact that their presence had increased at breakfast over the past week was touching. It was wonderful that, for once, their Mother was paying the sort of attention to them that didn't involve her raging at them.

"Did you have a nice lie in dears?" Mrs Weasley asked as she bustled over to them, bearing two steaming mugs of aromatic coffee.

Neither twin was able to prevent the corners of their mouth twisting upwards into a contented smile. Nor were they able to resist exchanging meaningful looks with each other, but luckily their Mother remained oblivious to their significance, seeing nothing there but their usual mischievous grins. _They'd been a little too busy for sleeping in,_ Fred thought, the image of that morning's encounter flashing vividly before his gold flecked brown eyes. Surreptitiously, George briefly laid his hand on Fred's knee underneath the table, their thoughts travelling to the same paradise.

"Yes, thanks Mum. I think we were both in need of a rest," Fred replied smoothly. It was lucky that George was long practiced in the art of concealing his emotions, as he was certain that had he allowed the happiness that he felt to be manifested on his face that he would have given them away. Instead he nodded in agreement, catching Fred's habitual smirk in the corner of his eye as he accepted the red mug that his Mother was offering to him.

"What about you Mum?" He asked, raising it to his curvaceous lips and taking a sip; Fred watching him fixedly.

"It could have been better dearie," she said, smoothing back a rebellious hair that refused to lie flat on his head. "I'll rest easier as soon as Ronnie and Hermione are back safe and sound.

Mr Weasley was absorbed in that morning's issue of the Daily Prophet; the family had considered ending their subscription, but had concluded that it was better to stay informed of what was being said about the twins. George eyed the front of it warily, gauging whether it would join its predecessors in the kitchen fire. After of course, he had enjoyed first tearing it to pieces.

"Anything Dad?" His Father instantly knew what he was referring to and shook his head thankfully.

"No, not today son," he reassured him.

George nodded in relief, but still looked out at the morning sky through the kitchen window as if expecting another Prophet to be delivered with a new slanderous story.

"A temporary reprieve then," George muttered. Charlie was sat opposite them, his rugged looks were amplified by his clothing which was marked by many old burns from handling some of the most dangerous dragon breeds to exist in the wizarding world. He looked across at his younger brother, his suntanned skin creased with concern.

"You don't think Skeeter's done with you both George?" He asked with a forkful of waffle half way to his mouth.

George shook his head as Ginny bit her lip, lost in thought. "Why would she stop?" He spoke quietly, but his rich bass tones still permeated the ears of his listeners. "When gossip about us is so rife? No, she'll never stop until A) the gossip is no longer interesting or B) somebody stops her. And as Freddie suddenly returning from the land of the dead is unlikely to become boring anytime soon, it looks like option B) is the only way we're going to finally earn some peace." His usually laid back gaze turned momentarily cold again as it had done when the terrible news of Rookwood, Umbridge and other death eaters being on the run had been delivered to them. Bill observed the steely iciness of his expression and feared that George had committed himself to the fulfillment of plan B). He understood their relationship well enough to know that the younger twin was willing to do anything to stop the slander of his beloved Fred. Bill was not the only one to have noticed George's sudden change in demeanor, as Fred both emotionally and psychologically attuned to his brother was watching him with disquiet.

"If only Hermione were here," Harry interjected grimly. "She got the better of Rita last time she was causing trouble."

"That's it!" George shouted excitedly. "I'll threaten to reveal that she's an unregistered animagus as like you said Harry, it worked like a treat last time!"

"Zat woman really is unbearable," Fleur snapped. "I remember zat she said I was all looks and no brain!"

"How wrong she was," Bill smiled fondly at his wife, who tossed her long silvery hair and laid a well manicured hand on his arm.

Mrs Weasley had turned towards them at George's words with a worried expression, taking in the determination that flashed brightly in his eyes.

"Blackmail eh Georgie boy? I'm shocked! Last time you were trying to persuade me against blackmail!" Fred attempted to lighten the situation. George turned to smile at him, fervour still evident in his eyes.

"And I'm glad that I gave in. Sometimes there's no other way but to play dirty," he replied adamantly.

Mrs Weasley shook her head, smiling with a a half amused, half exasperated expression. She wiped her hands on a tea towel and stepped towards where they were sitting. "Should I even ask who you once attempted to blackmail?"

Fred grinned as nostalgia filled him, how simple and carefree their days at school had been on the whole, full of mischief and fun. Hogwarts was a bubble almost, far removed from real life in the wizarding world; unless you were Harry Potter of course.

"Ludo Bagman. He cheated us out of our savings at the Quidditch World Cup when we won a bet with him," Fred lamented.

"We tried being nice at first, but eventually we got fed up-"

"We had lost all our savings after all and it seemed at the time that now we'd have no chance of opening the shop-"

"So we sent him a letter threatening to tell the ministry about his dodgy finances and the amount of people that he'd swindled, including Lee's Dad," George finished. Mrs Weasley looked flabbergasted. She had to grip the pan tighter to prevent it from slipping from her grip and more porridge ended up on the table than in Percy's bowl.

"I suppose anything you pair get up to shouldn't surprise me," she smiled. "But really, gambling. Arthur! How could you have let them do that?" She turned to her husband casting a stern look at him, hands on hips. Everyone laughed as they watched Mr Weasley stare meekly up at his wife.

"Well," he tried in a faltering voice. "I judged that they were old enough to decide what they wanted to do with their money." Mrs Weasley turned back to the stove muttering under her breath, the words 'underage' and 'irresponsible' discernible amongst her grumbling.

"Well, we certainly regretted it," Fred smiled at his Mother's back. "We had nothing to spend in Hogsmeade at all that year." He was relieved that their reminiscences had turned George's mind away from more gloomy subjects. He saw concern still flashing in his Mother's eyes when she retook her seat at the table, but felt grateful that she didn't express it to remind George of his determination to avenge Fred's character decimation. George, however, had certainly not forgotten nor forgiven Rita; he chose to let the matter lie for the time being in order not to cause Fred any further worry, but swore internally that he would put an end to this once and for all.

Percy pulled off his glasses to clean them with the sleeve of his pajama top. "Did I hear correctly? You two actually disagreed over something!"

The twins exchanged looks and smiled. "Well, it wasn't exactly a disagreement," George began.

"Yeah, we were just letting our thoughts flow freely, you know. Georgie was just stating the other side of the argument, weren't you mate?" Fred beamed at his twin, before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Well, when we were walking up to the owlery, I did think that out of all your crazy ideas that this one really was gonna land us in some trouble," George grimaced, his facial expression causing Fred to howl with laughter. His face was a mixture of amusement and dismay that they couldn't really boast to have never argued with one another. Both twins had pulled some stupid faces in their time, but George's expressions were unbeatable. Fred thought back to the time when they had failed to enter their names into the tournament, _oh dam_ had quickly crossed his mind, but when he had looked to his left to see how his twin was taking their disappointment it had been hilarious, until the goblet threw them twenty feet onto the castle's paved floor that is. _Ouch,_ he reminisced smiling.

"You can't pretend to be argument free guys," Ginny joined the conversation, grinning at them. "You're just as fallible as us lesser mortals," she joked. Jitters filled the room, but Percy considered them with admiration.

"It's pretty special though how you've managed to be together for such a long time with only one argument," he said. The twins looked completely taken aback; their relationship with Percy had improved significantly since his reunion with the family, but it still felt slightly odd to hear him complimenting them rather than turning his nose up at their antics. But to their surprise was added the reminder that they had had another argument, one that was far more than any disagreement could be. Fred bit his lower lip, remembering the way that he had shouted at George and said such wounding things in an effort to direct his self disgust and anger back at George, seeking to blame him for his unbrotherly feelings. It had been a testament to the depth and force of their relationship that the upset caused by it had been so intense, so _passionate_.

"Yeah," Ginny nodded. "Unlike Harry and Ron, constantly squabbling and bickering." Harry momentarily looked indignant, but was forced to concede that although he and Ron were best friends and always would be that they had a track record for falling out about some of the most ridiculous things.

"Well," Fred began as he turned towards George, smiling at him fondly and pushing back a stray piece of hair from his face. "It's kind of hard to fall out with this Saint-like one," he smiled. "All of our petty squabbles are for fun. I don't know how you put up with me on the other hand."

"Twenty years," George pretended to sigh. "People get less for murder." This quip had the whole room in stitches; under the cover of their family's mirth they briefly clasped hands under the table and leaned in closer to one another. There was no space between their seats, their two chairs resembled a bench rather two individual spaces.

"Hey Georgie! We forgot that our birthday was also our 'china' anniversary," Fred grinned, waggling his eyebrows at his twin. The majority of the room was now quite red in the face, in Harry's case he had actually started choking on his breakfast and was having to be patted on the back rather vigorously by Ginny. Mrs Weasley however had stopped smiling at this joke, with her mug half raised to her lips she regarded them with an imperturbable expression. But the twins, caught up in their joke, missed the warning sign.

"Must have been Freddiekins, considering all our mail is addressed to Mr and Mr Weasley," George remarked wryly, happening to glance over at their Mother. He noted the way that her lips were pursed and the clouded expression. Clearly she had taken their joke in poor taste, but Percy eliminated his need to warn Fred with an announcement that thankfully diverted their Mother's attention. He cleared his throat anxiously and straightened the cuff of his pajama sleeve.

"Mum, Dad, I've been meaning to say, to inform you that is-" No matter how much Percy wanted to reform himself, a pompous demeanor had become his defense whenever he felt awkward or was being teased by the twins. "I've been friends with a lovely young woman from the department of law enforcement for a couple of years, and a couple of days before the Battle I asked her if she'd like to, well-"

He was cut off by his Mother's excited shriek, nearly suffocated by how tightly she was squeezing him and bombarded with questions of when they could meet her and why on earth Percy had taken two weeks to tell her the wonderful news.

"So that's where you went the other day, eh? You went to see your girlfriend!" Mrs Weasley clapped her hands together, clearly delighted, several tears were even visible welling up in her eyes.

Percy nodded, he was smiling but was very red in the face from being nearly suffocated by his Mother. "Yeah, I'd been sending her letters, but she really wanted to see me in person to check that I really was okay. She was really happy for me about Fred coming back to us," he added, smiling across at his brother.

"And her name dear?" Mrs Weasley demanded.

"Audrey Williamson, she's amazing," he gushed. "And she's really looking forward to meeting you all, now... now that I've finally gotten over my pride and admitted that I was wrong," he added quietly.

"Well you did in the end Perce so that's all that matters," Fred tried to comfort him.

"But it was so very nearly too late Fred," Percy fretted. "Less than two hours later you were dead and I hadn't spoken to you for nearly three years apart from that one time I came across you both in Diagon alley last autumn and look how awful I was despite George urging me to come and see Mum."

"Well I'm here, to be the irritating arse of a younger brother as usual" Fred responded firmly, "so don't feel guilty bro...please. God I imagine what you would have been like if I had stayed dead, you and George together; I can just picture you both arguing over who was the most to blame, you for not jumping in front of me or something and Georgie for doing what Kingsley asked and splitting up," he shook his head, casting a smile at his twin who returned it. Fred felt his stomach drop as he observed how his twins' amusement with his joke was tinged with a sadness that lingered in his warm eyes that conveyed his sweet-tempered personality.

"So when do we get to introduce ourselves to your girlfriend Perce," George asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He smiled at Fred who was soon matching his twin's expression. Percy and the others laughed heartily but Mrs Weasley gazed at them sternly.

"You two had better behave yourselves when she comes over for dinner tomorrow...if of course she can make it dearie," she turned to Percy. "Now," she turned back to the twins, "I don't want either of you embarrassing your brother, or else," she finished threateningly.

"Or else what?" Fred dared, irked that she was speaking to them like five year olds who could be punished, rather than the independent adults they were. Although independent was stretching it a bit Fred admitted to himself, with the unhealthy state of their finances. The look that Mrs Weasley sent him was so black, that despite being twenty years old Fred shrank as if he indeed was five again being threatened with his Mother's broom. George watched his Mother leave the table and move to the sideboard where the knitting needles had stopped clacking together and a finished jumper lay with a solemn expression. Already she was taking a pop at them for such a tiny thing.

"You'll do as your told Frederick and keep your snarky comments to yourself. I don't want this ruined for Percy," she continued to reprimand him sharply. Fred raised an eyebrow sarcastically, but with George's warning look bit his tongue, nearly drawing blood in the process. He didn't know where his Mother had been for the past week, but it seemed that she had neglected to notice how quiet and thoughtful they had been, still shaken from what had happened and worried for what the future held for them. Yes at times they were giddy with delight and relief, reveling in being in love, but neither was able to free their mind. Even in their bliss, the world weighed heavily upon them both.

"It was too much to hope for wasn't it?" George sighed under the cover of the chatter that had risen again to ease the suddenly tense atmosphere.

"If me dying wasn't enough to stop her constantly jumping down our throats than we'll never ever be good enough for her," Fred muttered, resentment spread across his handsome features. George took his hand in his again, this time leaving their fingers clasped firmly around the others. The younger twin briefly thought about talking to her about how they felt, but since when had she ever listened to them?

The twins were distracted by the sound of voices on the path leading up to the house, steadily drawing closer. A second later and Ron and Hermione appeared in the doorway that led to they yard, both looking slightly disheveled from their travels and weary, but they were both smiling. Mrs Wesley immediately turned from the sink at the sound of their entrance, beaming and rushed forwards to greet them, the strings of her apron flapping.

"Oh Ronnie! Hermione dear! I'm so pleased that you're back" She said joyfully, embracing them both in her arms at once. Ron looked slightly resentful at still being called Ronnie by his Mother at the age of 18 but bore it with good grace. Fred noted depressingly how it was a rare occurrence when their Mother used nicknames for them; it had been a long time since his Mother had called him 'Freddie', that pet name was usually the preserve of George alone. Here was yet another indicator that Ron had never been the least loved of his Mother's children, further evidence that he had no worse enemy but himself.

"It is nice to be back," Hermione was smiling, her eyes shining with a mixture of happiness and relief. Observing their exhausted state, Mrs Weasley ushered them into the two remaining chairs and started ladling piles of food onto both of their plates. Ron's eyes bulged in appreciation at the sight of the food; he dived in eagerly, tearing his teeth into freshly baked bread and chucking back mouthfuls of coffee as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Beside him Hermione took more polite mouthfuls of food. Satisfied now that they both had food in front of them, Mrs Weasley and indeed the others could no longer wait to hear the outcome of their journey.

"Well, did you find them," Harry burst out, unable to bear the anticipation any longer, even though Hermione's delighted expression revealed all.

"Yes!" Hermione said delighted, as she pushed her bushy hair out of her face. "It was mush easier to find them than I expected it was going to be. We found them in Sydney after chancing upon a newspaper article about Wendell Wilkins' lottery win. Of course they were quite surprised to find two strangers turning up on their doorstep and very nearly called the police, but in the end I was able to restore their memories and bring them home. We just left my house this morning," Hermione finished her story. With his mouth now full of Sausage and egg, Ron had been unable to contribute anything to this narration of their exploits, apart from the occasional nod of his head and incomprehensible noises. Grinning, George handed him a napkin to remedy the mess that he had made of himself.

"It's such a bummer that you can't just apparate to anywhere in the world," Ron complained. "I really hate Portkeys- though I of course appreciate you sorting it out for us at the ministry Dad," he added hastily.

"No problem at all son, we had to rescue your future in laws," he said wryly. The twins both laughed.

"I suppose you two enjoyed some quality alone time in Sydney," Fred insinuated, wishing that he and George were able to have more such time themselves. The past week had been amazing, but they hadn't been able to touch each other overly much during the day, only stealing the occasionally covetous kiss in the orchard or in the broom shed when they were sure that nobody was watching or listening. George smirked to himself over the memory of Fred discovering how naughtily enjoyable dirty talk could be. Hermione quickly turned a crimson shade of scarlet and partially hid her face under the guise of wiping it with a napkin.

"I don't know what you're talking about Fred," she smiled knowingly.

"Well I just hope that you're both being safe," Mrs Weasley butted in, causing Ron to groan in embarrassment. The twins both sniggered loudly at this and Ron shot them some dirty looks.

"I suppose Hermione wanted to polish your wand for you Ron," Fred managed to splutter out. George found this very amusing and nearly spluttered on his coffee, he was only saved from choking on it by Fred patting him on the back. He hadn't laughed so hard in ages he thought, clutching his side and nearly falling off his seat, again only saved by Fred's quick thinking. Ron still looked irked, but his mouth twitched in amusement; he and the rest of the family were heartily glad to see George laughing so hard for the first time since Fred had died.

"Just because your wands aren't getting any action," Ron said, with a congenial smile on his face.

"Really? I can assure you its squeaky clean," Fred replied nonchalantly. Now, George was in hysterics and the rest of the table was sniggering into their napkins. Even Mrs Weasley looked amused and was shaking her head, realising properly for the first time that rather than a houseful of children she now had a bunch of sexually mature young men and women on her hands. Of course it was only George who knew exactly what his sharp-witted twin was referring to as he endeavored to control the flush of his cheeks and banish images of Fred's wand from his mind.

"Honestly!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed. "What am I going to do with the lot of you. Now I hope to see you all staying respectable," she said sternly, regarding the couple's in the room. "Especially you Ginny you're not even seventeen yet."

Harry turned rather red at such an insinuation and endeavored to assure Mrs Weasley that he had been nothing but honorable towards her daughter.

"Get any redder there Harry and people will start to mistake you for a Weasley!" Fred teased him with his familiar snarky edge. The burst of laughter that went up this time was even more enthusiastic than it had been before; Ron in particular was beaming at them. He had even momentarily forgotten his food, which was saying something.

"Thank bloody hell for that then!" He exclaimed, whilst Fred raised an eyebrow questioningly. George caught his eye and they shared a knowing expression, easily guessing what Ron's next words were going to be, but silently dreading them all the same. " I was beginning to be disappointed that you two weren't doing many jokes and now that I think about it neither of you has played a single prank yet, since-" He broke away from saying the word that still made George's heart briefly stop, his breath catch in his lungs and his blood freeze to ice in his veins. He kept the smile carefully plastered on his face, even though both he and Fred knew that he wasn't alright, not really.

Fred stirred his coffee idly, even though the milk had long since been dissolved. He tried to force a pleasant tone into his voice, even though his natural urge was to snap at Ron. Did they not deserve some peace? Some time for quite reflection after everything that had happened? Was that really all they meant to Ron? But Fred calmed himself, realising that he was being slightly unreasonable. How could Ron truly understood when he did not know the months of agony over his struggle to accept that he was gay and that he loved George. But he had thought that even Ron would have understood how Fred being nearly lost to life forever would severely limit their taste for jokes in the near future.

"Neither of us are much in the mood for pranks Ron, we've had rather a lot on our plate," he said stiffly. Ron's face crumpled slightly as he realised the offence that he had caused and he endeavored to rectify his insensitivity.

"Yeah of course you have, sorry mate... Just... Don't let those idiots bring you both down alright?" There was an intensity in Ron's blue-green eyes as he regarded them. He accepted that the brothers he had always admired had changed, but he was adamant in his desire that he did not want them to lose sight of those joyful and mischievous natures that had brought so much happiness to everyone. Fred didn't have to force himself to be pleasant this time, touched as he was by Ron's evident concern for their welfare and realising that he had been harsh and overly pessimistic about Ron's motivations. Both he and George smiled and nodded at their little brother. Yet each mused over how very little idea Ron truly had of just how much they had to deal with and could hardly see him being sympathetic if he knew the truth of it all.

* * *

After breakfast, the twins walked out into the yard to feed the chickens as instructed by their Mother. Her tone with them had once again adopted its brisk, sharp quality when speaking to them. They were both surprised and hurt simultaneously; they had both been so sure that their beginning to joke and tease again would have given her cause for relief rather than anger. Fred strode over to a stone outhouse that had seen better days, it's roof was caved in slightly and it was overgrown with moss in the gaps where part of the stone walls had crumbled away. It was with pride that Fred realised that the family wouldn't always be poor, he and George would see to that; together they would turn their already popular store into a real money spinner, now that people were once again unafraid to roam the streets without the constant fear of death or kidnap. _The shop_. They had hardly discussed their store in the time that had passed since the battle and Fred was filled with a burning desire to visit it and check out the damage. Remembering their escape from the death eaters who had cornered them there, with a sinking feeling Fred knew that it would be idealistic of them to expect it to still be in one piece. He turned the door to the outhouse, George following behind him. As he walked over to the opposite wall to retrieve the bag of chicken feed, he felt soft fingers enclosing gently, yet firmly around his wrist. Fred's heart fluttered at the touch and he turned into the embrace that George was now offering him.

"It drives me crazy not being able to touch you as I'd like in front of the others," George said in a low voice, leaning in towards his twin's neck and bestowing ardent kisses against the creamy white skin.

Fred closed his eyes in bliss, every fiber of his being focused on the sound of flesh against flesh. "Out of the two of us I thought that it would of been you that had the most restraint," he chuckled softly, leaning his back against the wall and drawing George snugly against his body. The poorly lit outhouse cast a shadow over his handsome face, but the crooked smug that swept across his features was unmissable.

"Well, you are so very beautiful it's hard to keep my hands to myself," he joked. Fred chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through his chest, its energy flowing through their connected bodies. How George loved to see, hear and feel Fred laugh, all his senses completely focused on that most treasured force.

"Aren't you the narcissistic one today?" Fred teased him both verbally and physically as he trailed his fingers down his chest and towards his groin.

"Hardly," George smiled in that self depreciating way of his, that Fred was simultaneously in admiration of and driven to frustration by. He momentarily raised his own fingers to the gaping hole on the left side of his head. It was hard to say that his injury had healed 'nicely', the flesh still had a look of raw meat about it, twisted and jagged. Fred gently traced the scar tissue with his forefinger, this one scar the only physical reminder of their year of hell. It was still possible to discern that this ruined flesh had once been an ear, but even Fred had to admit that it wasn't pretty to look at. It was this realisation that had stopped him from flying off the handle at Ron when their little brother had finally taken in with a mixture of shock and revulsion the extent of the scarring. It had not been unbandaged before the trio had fled the wedding and in the disorientation of the battle and its heart rending aftermath he had not fully taken it in. Fred had been concerned that Ron's characteristically unsubtle reaction would drive George into self consciousness over the injury again, but he seemed to have accepted it; Fred thought that he was beautiful even if he was missing an ear. And indeed, not even a missing ear could detract from the beauty that the Weasley twins both possessed. Fred had not accepted it. a part of him would always mourn the loss of their identicalness but he of course knew that they had come so close to losing far more than just one of their ears.

George's voice drew him from his quiet reverie. "You're thinking about Snape aren't you?" It was more of a statement than a fact, knowing each other as well as they did but Fred still nodded, drawing George into a tighter embrace and pressing his lips with the utmost tenderness against his twin's disfigurement.

"You must feel a bit less hostile towards him now that you know he was on our side all along. It was an accident, he was trying to save Lupin." George's gaze flickered over Fred's, searching for any sign that his twin was at least partially willing to let his grudge against Snape go. He wanted Fred to be happy and not full of such negative energy. Eventually the elder twin smiled and kissed the tip of his boyfriend's nose.

"Yes, I guess I'll forgive him," he conceded. "After all, if he hadn't tried to do something to stop that death eater, you... you could have died instead," his voice trembled. George wrapped his arms around Fred's slender waist and drew him nearer, slowly pressing their lips together, small moans occasionally escaping their parted lips, whilst their tongues reached to stroke each other. They broke away before either of them could become aroused, knowing that this was neither the time or the place as a member of their family could walk in on them at any minute. It was frustrating that the moments they had together had to be stolen ones, but considering how much worse things could have been both were incredibly grateful for the way that they were now.

"Right we'd better get back before Mum sends out a search party," Fred quipped as he deposited the bag of chicken feed back in its usual place after they had scattered the corn in the yard for the Weasley chickens.

"Do you think she's getting suspicious?" Fred could feel the anxiety that permeated George's voice. In an effort to reassure him he tenderly lay his hand on his upper arm and drew his gaze to meet his reassuring brown eyes.

"No, we've been careful, there's no reason for her to be suspicious at all. We've definitely been more openly loving with each other, but I'm sure that she would expect that given what happened," he said, endeavoring to gather as much confidence into his voice as possible. He saw by the twist of his twin's lips that he had not been entirely successful in convincing him, but still he nodded and made towards the door. He paused midway to reaching for the handle before turning back to his twin. It seemed that they had, unsurprisingly, been having similar thoughts.

"Do you fancy checking out the store later Freddie, to see whether the Death eaters were kind enough to leave us something that could be called a business?" His words were suggestive of a joke, but his tone was so lacking in mirth that it would have been difficult for a stranger to believe that George Weasley had ever been capable of laughter. A fear that he had not completely put a broken George back together seeped through him, but he knew that their two broken pieces made a perfect whole. This time they would forge a glue so strong that they could never be broken again, but now he realised that it was not death which threatened to come between them, but their own family who would in all likelihood hate them when one day in the not too distant future they discovered who their twins really were under those shiny facades.

Fred crossed the outhouse to where George was standing by the door, closing the gap between them so that he could rest his right hand on the small of his twin's back. George closed his eyes and lent into the touch, feeling the heat of Fred's hand transferring into his skin and spreading in waves throughout his body.

"Yes," he answered quietly. "We'll go today so we can assess the state of things, make plans you know..." His voice trailed off as his thoughts drifted to the possibility that what they discovered could spell the end of their shared dream. There was no money for them to start from scratch again, if nothing could be salvaged that would be it and they would be forced to make a crucial decision of what their place in the wizarding world could now be.

"That's sorted then. Let's go now, in fact, before we put if off again. Sometimes the not knowing is worse." George's voice was barely a whisper as he turned to meet the warm eyes of his love, which had widened with empathy. "But then again, I'm not sure that I can say the same for...you know. At least until I found you I could pretend that you were completely fine. But in an odd way by knowing the worse the fear no longer had a hold over me. How could it?" He gave a bitter laugh. "When it finally had what it had always wanted."

Loving arms crept around his waist from behind at his emotional words and soft lips nudged onto the curve of skin between his neck and jaw. George gasped in surprise, at which Fred gave a low chuckle, satisfied that he still had the ability to surprise his twin despite their intimate bond.

"Try not to think about it too much love, I hate seeing you upset," Fred murmured, pressing his body tighter against George's, his groin pressing against the swell of George's buttocks and his chest aligned with his back. George leaned further into him and they rocked together on the spot, both comforted by their close embrace. "And hey we've got something to celebrate today," Fred reminded him.

"Every day has been a celebration Freddie," George smiled happily, with his eyes half closed. "What more could I possibly ask for beyond having you safe and happy and in love with me?"

"Very true that Georgie." Fred nuzzled again into his neck, kissing the spot where he could feel the steady throb of George's pulse, it's steady beat comforting.

"But oh yeah how could I forget! I can't believe it's been two years since we left. Bloody hell, where's the time gone?" George clasped the elegant fingers that were softly running across his stomach and squeezed them gently.

"Ummm, it's gone too quickly, how are we 20? I can see our sixteen year old selves running around Hogwarts causing mayhem like it was yesterday without a care in the world. We'll never get that naivety back Georgie boy or indeed all the days that we've wasted agonising this year, but we can treasure all the moments that we'll have from now on without being in a state of constant fear all the time. And..." George didn't need to see his twin's face to know that a large smirk had erupted across his handsome features. "That includes savoring the look on Umbridge's face when she became acquainted with Weasley's Wildfire Whizzbangs all day long."

They kept a firm hold of each other's fingers as they walked back up to the house, boldly so as all it would take would be for someone to look out of the kitchen window and they would immediately be faced with questions that would test their ability to lie to the limit. But on this anniversary of their most reckless endeavor, both twins could not help but embrace that rebellious fire that still burned in them despite coming close to being extinguished in recent months. There was a limit to their dare devil behaviour though and therefore they reluctantly let go of each other's hands feeling an instant chill at the loss of each other's skin. They found their family gathered together in the living room where they informed them of their intentions to check out their store. Despite her cold behaviour to them that morning, their Mother suggested that everybody go in case they needed help with anything; an offer that the twins quickly accepted with a show of outward gratitude but internally feeling that this was something they much rathered to face alone, as no doubt it would be emotional for the both of them. But to say no to their family accompanying them would require an explanation that neither of them could put into words.

At eleven o'clock the Weasley's gathered beyond the perimeter of the protective enchantments that Mrs Weasley could not quite summon the courage to finally remove to apparate to Diagon alley. The twins were wearing each other's dark yellow and purple coats that they had worn when they'd gone to escort Harry from Privet Drive all those months ago. Their family noted their cloth sharing, but made no comment on it; the two had shared clothes all their life so that in itself wasn't surprising; it was the clear reasons behind it that pulled on their heart strings. The Weasley's waited for the twins to signal their departure, accepting that this was their moment. All eyes were upon them, but that didn't prevent Fred from linking arms with George so that they could apparate side along, acting as if it was the most natural thing in the world before quickly reminding himself that to their family it was the most natural thing in the world. It was reassuring that on account of their life long closeness that they would be able to get away with so much that boring old just brothers wouldn't. He suppressed a smirk at the though of casually linking arms with Ron before the bile rose up in the back of his throat in anticipation of what awaited them. George was faring no better as he swallowed repeatedly and stared down at where his feet were scuffing the fresh spring grass, fretting about what they would find.

Observing this their Father endeavored to soothe their fears. "Let's go boys, it's better to know," he said, echoing George's earlier sentiment. The twins nodded and turned on the spot, apparating with their characteristic pop, that was so reflective of their bubbly personalities but which today sounded subdued and somewhat wilted. They lurched through space, holding onto each other so tightly that Fred's nails were digging into George's arm. Barely seconds later their feet hit solid ground and they were standing on the cobbled street of Diagon Alley. Over those few weeks the place had transformed and was far removed from that dark and depressive street that they had become accustomed to in those final months before the death waters had forced them to flee for their lives, Now, it was once again bustling and vibrant with throngs of people bustling to and throw, shop doors thrown open and loud voices laughing and chatting. Theirs was the only store that had remained abandoned until now, none of the other shopkeepers needing as much time to heal as they had done. They had apparated slightly down the street from their store, but the sight that was before their eyes was impossible to escape from. George felt his stomach drop as he stared up at the wreck that was their dream, Fred's gasp of shock close by his right ear. All around them their family were wearing an array of expressions, dismay, shock, anger and an overwhelming sadness to see this new blow for the twins after they had already been put through so much. The twins clutched at each other in despair, as tears clouded both of their visions.

"Oh god," Ginny exclaimed, as the twins finally cast off the numbness that had overtaken them and set off up the street at a jog to their wreck of a shop.

At close quarters the damage looked even worse than it had from afar. The twins paused several meters before the doors that were blasted in on their hinges and stared up at the catastrophe that presented itself to them. The once colorful and vibrant shopfront was now nothing but a charred and burnt out shell, blackened paintwork peeling off the walls in chunks; no trace left of the once purple bricks and painted orange shopfront. Their bright and cheerful signs had been torn from their hooks and lay in splintered pieces on the ground where they had been stamped underfoot by the death eaters. Glass littered the floor from where the windows had imploded from the death eaters forced entry; at the time they had not been able to take in the destruction and it seemed evident that in revenge for their escape the bastards had utterly gutted the place. The thirty foot model of themselves that had once stood tall and proud in the central towering bay window had toppled sideways to smash through the glass and wood and was precariously placed at a forty five degree angle, in danger of toppling to the ground. Fred's heart stopped at what the death eaters had done to it- their cruelty knew no bounds. The replica's left ear was missing and the side of its head and neck were splattered with dragon's blood. Worse still was the sight of one of Bellatrix's gleaming silver knives sticking out of the torn and bloodied fabric of its suit, her message to them was loud and clear. Despite the fact that she was dead and unable to carry out her threat, shivers still crept down the twins' spines. Wreckage interspersed the fragments of broken glass that covered the ground; soggy packaging and broken pieces of products could be picked out amongst the mess. Although the fire that had ravaged their shop had long fizzled out, the acrid smell of smoke was still on the air.

Dropping their guard completely, abandoning all worry of suspicion the twins wrapped their arms around each other and sank into a heap on the debris littered ground.

"It's gone, all gone," Fred choked.

George raised his face from his neck, tear streaks evident on his face. "We've got the notes for everything, we can start again Freddie."

"What's the point?" Fred sniffed. "When they all hate us." Just as George was about to assert that those people who believed what Rita had written were only in the minority, his eyes flickered over the charred bricks and his heart plummeted in fear. Fred raised his eyes to where he was looking and the rest of the family followed their gaze; their eyes also glistening with tears. Instead of the painted on advertisements that used to decorate the walls was a mess of scrawled graffiti, amongst it all one word stood out vividly, painted as it was in a bright orange to mock them further.

_Sodomites_

As they crouched among the ashes of their dream, the twins read that word over and over again, feeling their already fragile world crumble around them; the glue that they had repaired it with over the week had not yet dried; it was still too fragile to hold them together, so once again they were broken and raw as cruel time slowed to trap them in that moment for as long as possible. The happiness of the last few days evaporated and drifted away like the smoke that had billowed into the skyline as their beautiful dream had been set alight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience guys, I'm sorry that it's been two months but University has been quite busy! As I've got exams coming up in the next month I'm probably not going to be able to write until they're finished so do bear with me. But after that it'll be the summer break again and I should be back at roughly one update a week again, depending on chapter length. A massive thank you to my beta reader alenafarlon, who's been fantastic as always. If anyone else has any thoughts that they'd like to share, I'd really love to hear them. Some more reviews would be lovely as I've put so much effort into writing this and I always reply to any messages. But thank you to everyone who has read and supported so far!
> 
> Weasley Twins2


	34. Rise From the Ashes

An immeasurable amount of time passed, but the scene had changed very little. Still the twins sat in the remains of what had once been a colourful and vibrant store, but was now just an empty shell. It was just as George had felt at the moment of Fred's death, nothing but an empty carcass that had had its very life force sucked out of it. Devastation wracked them.

The dream that they had worked towards for years, had envisioned since they were naive children was ruined. What hope did they have to rebuild the shop? Both their resources and energy were utterly spent. All that Fred wanted to do was to take George far away from the pain and the accusing, malevolent gazes that seemed to now follow them wherever they went. They had no money left to restart, every penny that they owned had been spent in trying to keep their colourful machine running, an increasingly difficult and arduous task as the people daring to frequent the alley had steadily dwindled. The money that they had earned from their owl order business whilst in hiding was simply not enough. Nor did they have any hope that their customers would return in droves as if the events of the last year were nothing but an illusion, part of some untouchable parallel world that could not possibly harm them. The graffiti on the wall was the final nail in the coffin for them; it buried the sparks of the hope that had begun to burn within them. They had been allowed to rise, only to be beaten back into submission by the fate that wanted to chain their free spirits. Although for George particularly, the situation could be looked at in one small positive way, that it could not possibly compare to losing Fred. He tried to remind himself of how much they had as he continued to stare at the wreckage, but it seemed to spell their doom, to suggest that what they had so recently gained together was destined to be as temporary as their bright dream had proved to be. A month short of the anniversary that would have marked the two years that had lapsed since they had first opened their doors of light to the downtrodden spirits of wizarding society.

They had started making their products because they had always enjoyed making each other laugh and formed the benevolent desire of sharing that feeling with others, so that they too could bask in the warmth that emanated from their happy souls and so doing contribute to making the world a better place, even if it was only in a seemingly insignificant way. They had gained a sense of fulfilment from the knowledge that their inventions made people happy and simultaneously relished in the happiness of their twin. The positive response that they had gained had been unlike anything they had ever received before in their lives, so used were they to their Mother's constant scorn and expressions of disappointment. They had never felt as good at their brothers in anything, in spite of their numerous qualities. They were intelligent and quick witted, skilful on the Quidditch field and battlefield alike and some of the most creative, talented people within wizarding society, not to mention their fiercely loyal and warm personalities which rendered them so easily likable by a great number of people. But in their Mother's eyes they had never reached that high standard that their brothers had unknowingly set for them, namely academic excellence and the achievement of the status of prefect, then head boy or Quidditch Captain. None of their achievements had fitted into this expected pattern of the Weasley children and so their Mother had considered their goals and dreams with a condescending eye. It was unsurprising that the twins had been left feeling inferior in every way to their siblings, even to Ron, who although constantly grumbling about his lot, had never realised how much better he had it than the twins in terms of how he stood in Molly Weasley's approval.

But they had found one area where they could carve a niche for themselves in a world in which they did not quite belong, one that they were confident in their talents in. After realizing their aptitude for making people laugh, they longed to turn it into their livelihood, to finally do something they thought was worthwhile and be taken seriously. But their hearts continued to sink still further, as they turned their tearful gazes to the equally ruined interior which could be perceived through the glassless windows. They feared that they would never be taken seriously again, nor be able to return to selling their wheezes, when they themselves became the biggest joke that the wizarding world had ever known. Sodomites. Did somebody know? In their state of paranoia it seemed impossible that it could just be a random insult. It seemed too targeted to be the case, too knowing. Was the person responsible insinuating a relationship between them? Or making the lesser (though still serious in a society that remained ideologically backward) charge of them being homosexuals. How long would it take for somebody to draw the dotted lines together, they both internally fretted, fearing that their gasp of horror at the sight of the graffiti had given too much away to their horrified family.

The brothers were still embraced in a heap on the ground when they felt arms wrap around their thin frames, not quite as thin as they were a week ago, but still thin enough to worry. George and Fred looked up to find their sister had joined in their embrace, eyes shinning with tears of her own as she hugged them tightly and said with a whisper, "You two didn't deserve this, the shop was your dream and they had no right to take it from you. And those words... those people who called you Sodomites know nothing of you. They are miserable idiots who don't know what they are talking about or who they are messing with. They are probably Rita's fans and wouldn't believe the truth even if it grew up with them and went to their school!" Her shoulders wracked with suppressed sobs, and the twins shared a look and turned to wrap their arms around their sister, hugging her and sharing in the comfort. They felt another set of arms wrap around and soon another. Before long each of the present Weasleys was joined in the hug, murmuring their support for the twins and the unfairness of it all. Overcome with the support, Fred gasped out a sob and let tears flow freely down his cheeks. George, too, felt moved, but managed to hide his face in the crook of his twins neck, letting his hair soak up his twin's tears as his own tears flowed freely onto the brightly coloured shirt that his twin was wearing. Relief from Ginny's words coursed through him, she had not seen the truth in the insult nor interpreted it in the way that would have been the most damaging to them. Then they saw a flash of light and heard a click go off close by, and the family looked up to find a journalist from the prophet stood outside of the shop, holding to his face the camera that had just caught their personal and emotional moment. Upon seeing the family look up, the journalist put down his camera and sped away from the shop, booking it up the alley in the direction of The Daily Prophet. Great, Fred thought, We probably just made the front page for tomorrow's paper.

The other Weasleys too had heard the camera's click and looked up to follow the retreating back of the reporter, his pointed purple wizard's hat disappearing through the door to the Prophet's offices, before they had had a chance to move. Uncharacteristically for his usually pompous and posed manner, Percy's eyes flashed with anger and he made to dash after the reporter in a rage. He was only prevented from legging it after him by Bill and Charlie grabbing a hold of his arms.

"Going in there all guns blazing won't help the twins, son," Mr Weasley said placing a calming hand on Percy's back, at odds with the anger that was also shaking his body. "It'll only fire them with ammunition. No, we need to go about this the right way and file a complaint at the ministry." Fred and George exchanged a glance. Surely the newly formed government had things that they considered more important to be dealing with than the defamation that the Weasley twins were being put through. But hopefully, Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had developed a growing respect for them and their talents, would not turn a blind eye to the request for help from a family that had been so crucial to the war effort and had done and sacrificed so much for the Order of the Phoenix.

With fingers that could not quite cease their shaking, George finally raised his head and gently wiped away the several shining tear droplets that coated his love's cheeks. For the second time in a short period, the twins had again been observed in a state of raw vulnerability by the family who had only ever been privy to the happy prankster. It pulled on all of their heartstrings to see the slump of their shoulders, the slant of their eyebrows, their downward gazes, all their body language indicating that they had finally given up their fight. But just as they had concluded with sadness that the twins had been crushed once and for all, a spark lit in George's usually calm and laid back brown eyes. It quickly flared into life and became a bright blaze, burning with a determination and resolve that they had never seen before. With a grim face he gently loosened the hold that Fred, staring blankly, had on him so that he could rise to his feet, pulling his twin determinedly with him. Despite the presence of so many people, he took Fred's hand in front of them all, lacing their fingers tightly together and began to tug him over to where the shop's front door was blown inwards.

They would rise from the ashes if George Fabian Weasley had anything to say about it.

Fred started at George's sudden change, but as always with them their mood and energy was contagious. And so he too found himself sharing in his twin's newly summoned strength. After all that they had been through that year, they owed it to each other to continue fighting against the forces that would subdue them. So Fred gripped hold of George's hand just as tightly and followed him towards the doorway, both set on confronting the injustice that had been served to them. Exchanging admiring, but slightly bemused looks, their family followed a few paces behind.

George paused before the step peering into the gloom that greeted them. He sniffed the air, remnants of acrid smoke irritating his airways. Warning Fred of the glass that obstructed their path, he drew his twin to his side so that they could enter the store together, just as they had both insisted on doing at their grand opening in a time that seemed so far removed from their hellish present. How the contrast between these two times mocked them, one so full of joy and expectations of future happiness and the other a fatigue from past sufferings and fear of what the future had in store for them. George was shocked to realise just how much their perception of the future had been changed in such a short amount of time.

Their battle weary brown eyes met, a look of both support and love, a split second glimpse into the soul of their most beloved person on earth to give them the courage to step over the threshold and into the carnage within.

Inside was as dark as a tomb and just as somber, but it was nowhere near silent to the ears of the twins. Echoes from more joyous times seemed to reverberate around the room, children laughing and shouting in excitement as they played between the colourful stands of wares; the sounds of their own voices hawking their latest inventions and rousing the crowd. Fred closed his eyes, seeing the scene that day when the trio and Ginny had visited the store for the first time. He saw them standing halfway up the stairs to the first floor balcony, decked in their newly tailored snazzy suits, beaming to the eager crowd that hung on their every word. They had been assured kings in their castle of light and hope, until they had been heavily besieged that year by more than the forces of darkness, but even when all seemed destroyed, they sure as hell were not going to surrender.

_Step up! Step up!_

_We've got fainting fancies-_

_Nosebleed Nougat_

_And just in time for school-_

_Puking pastilles!_

He felt the warmth of fingers wrapped around his own as he watched their oblivious younger selves and knew that George was watching them too. They had to confront this. As soon as the resolve filled him, the vision faded and his eyelids snapped open. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior, but with the aid of the pale sunlight that was pouring through the large bay windows he gradually took in the sight that was before him. But it was not just the sights that they took in, no. All of their senses were overwhelmed by the revenge that the death eaters had exacted from them in anger at their escape.

The tall shelves that had once lined the walls, bearing stacks of their genius inventions had been toppled over and used as firewood for the blaze that with greedy, reaching fingers had consumed their lives' work. With a pang of anger, Fred could imagine Bellatrix Lestrange dancing manically around it, still able to taunt and mock them, even when they had managed to evade her clutches. He struggled to banish the thought of what would have happened to them if they had not through a combination of talent and sheer dumb luck sprang the trap that had been set for them. But he forced himself to focus on the positive, feeling a warmth building in his very soul to flow throughout him at the memory of the fierceness with which George had refused to leave him and save himself. He was so loved, he thought. It would be this profound love that existed between them which would save them in the end he assured himself, as it had always done.

Such positivity required considerable effort when the twins had both had time to process the state of their store further. Not one gleam of the array of vivid colours that had filled their store remained, all was blackness. The walls were so scorched that the paint and plaster had crumbled away in large chunks, leaving the blackened brickwork exposed, exposed as their hearts. Moving further forwards into the center of the shop, they observed how the staircase that lead up to the first floor balcony threatened to collapse from its structure being undermined by the ravages of the flames and the piles of debris and ash that were heaped everywhere and of the twisted and melted remains of so many products that they had lovingly hand crafted. George stooped amongst one such pile, keeping a firm hold of Fred's right hand with his other he retrieved a piece of burnt cardboard. It was just possible to make out that it had come from some packaging, to what it was impossible to say, but under the scorch marks could be seen a faded purple 'w'. George ran his forefinger over it, looking up to meet Fred's eyes. His twin stooped beside him, moving his hand to place it against George's lower back. Together they sifted through one of the piles, ignoring the way that their hands and clothes were soon blackened by the soot to find a tattered headless hat, the remains of what was once a packet of extendable ears and the melted remnants of a boxing telescope. Their brief search confirmed their fear that nothing amongst this wreckage would be salvageable. They helped each other to their feet, several fat tear droplets glistening against their pale faces to illuminate their elegant features. George held onto the burnt piece of packaging, fidgeting it between his fingers as he was wont to do when agitated. Hope suddenly seemed to be a foreign emotion to them, but still George clung to that newfound resolve that couldn't be called hope for a happy outcome, but rather a determination that even though it was highly likely that they would fail, still they had to give it everything that they had. They would pick up the pieces and rebuild, as both twins were already scanning around the space that suddenly seemed so much smaller, calculating the costs, time and energy that would be needed to transform this burnt out shell to its former glory.

The Weasleys had also moved into the store and were surveying it slack jawed and wide eyed. How could this be? Mrs Weasley regretted that she had never made the time to visit her twin sons' store more often, admired their hard work more. She could count on one hand the number of times that she had visited. But of all the Weasleys it was Charlie who was filled with the most regret. Nearly always abroad since he had left Hogwarts, he had never made the effort to see the twins' creation, no matter how many times they had begged him in their letters. Sure he had seen the photos that they'd sent him and had chuckled to himself at the pride on his younger brothers faces as they made silly faces as they posed in front of their new store, but he had never experienced the magic of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes first hand. They had named it so because they had wanted to give their family the opportunity to be involved, it was an opportunity that none of them had grasped.

Eyes reaching skyward, the twins gazed up at the ceiling forty feet above them and gulped, their adams apples bobbing in their throats. The top two floors of their store were just as ruined as the ground floor, the balustrade lining the galleries missing many of the wooden supports. The walkway linking one side of the first floor gallery to the staircase that would lead to the top floor had collapsed in the middle, making the top floor of the store inaccessible unless they apparated there. But the twins didn't need to observe the damage at first hand to know that the section which they had devoted to Muggle magic in honour of their Father's interest in all things Muggle related was just as destroyed; an interest that the twins had inherited in the number of muggle gadgets that they had bought for their flat. Fred swallowed hard, wondering if the extra protection that they had cast over their home together had been enough to preserve it.

The smell of melted metal caught George's senses and he moved behind one of the piles of debris that used to be their section of Wonderwitch products where a misshapen metal cage was lying on its side. He gagged at both the sight and smell, bringing his hand to his nose in an effort to hide the stench. Fred immediately followed him and seized him around the waist in an attempt to pull him away. But George could could not tear himself away from the mangled and rotting remains of their pygmy puffs. Their colourful fur all burnt and their motionless forms were lying pitifully in a deliberately made circle of corpses. George's eyes flicked to the smallest of the decaying bodies, which he knew were the two tiny ginger ones that they had intended on keeping for themselves as pets. Gred and Forge they were going to call them.

The tears were flowing down George's face full force now as he struggled to hold back the sobs. The dead miniature puffskeins bringing back the images of Fred's pale and lifeless corpse to the front of his mind. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't banish that first sight of Fred staring glassy eyed at the ceiling of the corridor where he had died, a ghost of a smile still upon his face, as despite his agony his final thought of his George's face had made him smile through it all. The only force that was preventing him from sinking to his knees in pain was Fred's arms wrapped around his waist from behind. He knew instantly what the sight of the puffs had triggered in his twin. He pressed his cheek to George's and murmured comfort urgently.

"S'okay. I'm here. It's okay Georgie. Come away, come on twinny." George allowed himself to be pulled backwards out of sight of the poor little creatures. But even when he could no longer see their sad little forms, the image of Fred lying still and unresponsive to his cries for him to come back to him remained, despite the warmth of Fred's breath on his neck and the tightness with which his fingers were squeezing him.

Their family quickly approached them to see what could have triggered such a response from George. Understanding lit up all of their eyes as they too observed the sad scene. Ginny touched George's arm lightly, tearing up when she thought of her own pgymy puff Arnold meeting such a fate. She remembered with happiness when the twins had presented him to her on that day when she had seen their store for the first time, their smiles extending even wider when they saw her obvious delight with him. Never had she met anyone who enjoyed making other people happy as the twins did without expectation of anything at all in return. They had carried the happiness of the wizarding world on their thin shoulders and just look at how they had been repaid for their kindness.

"Bloody hell." Ron swore quietly as he peered over Percy's shoulder. His voice seemed to echo around the bleak space, sending vibrations through the fragile walls and causing a cascade of dust and plaster to fall from the ceilings. Fred raised his right arm to protect his and George's faces from the debris, pulling them both into the shelter of an alcove that was set into the wall.

"Boys," their Mother called to them sadly when the building had settled once again and their family had emerged from where they too had ducked for cover. "We need to leave sweethearts, its dangerous."

The twins emerged from where they had sheltered grim faced, shaking their heads. They wouldn't be chased away, no, not until they had seen everything. They did not know why they were exquisitely torturing themselves so, but it had always been the case that their curious, exploring minds could never leave a secret unrevealed.

"Wait outside, we need to see the rest," Fred replied in a tone that clearly brooked no argument and for once their Mother did not challenge them, but nodded. However, nobody made a move to leave, it was not for nothing that everybody in that room barring Fleur had been sorted into the house of Godric Gryffindor.

"I don't think it's going to collapse," George commented as he surveyed the structure with his intelligent gaze. "If it was going to it would have done so by now, this happened two months ago after all." To anyone who did not know him as intimately as Fred did, his voice sounded firm and strong, only he could detect the quiver that underlay his beautiful rich voice. His twin's innate strength amazed him more and more as they suffered each blow, never had he ever met anybody who was as strong as George was, anybody who had such skill in placing a smile over a suffering heart. Fred knew better than anyone that the saying that the kindest hearts have felt the most pain had never rang more true than it did in George's case and maybe his too, a tiny part of him allowed. The part that unlike all the rest did not constantly tell himself that he was a terrible person. He was starting to listen to George's assurances of the good person that he was, a kind soul such as George's could see the light in other people. This was another thing that he knew.

"We're gonna check the store room," Fred declared to the eyes that were watching their every move. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly conscious of how closely he was stood next to George, the way that George's hand was resting on his upper arm.

"They might not have seen the door Freddie! We left a load of stock in there," George exclaimed as he bounced towards the back of the store, past the burnt out shelving where their defense range had been to the partially concealed door that would lead down to their basement storage area. Fred shared a worried look with the others before jogging after George. They could all see it, how one moment George was sad and depressed, unable to push past the horrors that he had been through in losing Fred and the next full of energy and excitement, his eyes flashing with a life and vitality that was more vivid than what had been there before all these troubles had hit them. No matter how much he wished that he could pretend otherwise he knew that George wasn't okay, that he was pretending, because he knew that nobody could understand why after having everything that was important returned to him, he remained trapped in a state of despair.

Anxious for his twin, Fred caught up to him where he was stood frozen in front of the door that led down to the basement. It was not pushed fully closed into its frame, somebody had been down there. Fred swallowed, the image of finding hundreds of shelved products ready to refill the store was replaced by a scene similar to the one that they had encountered on the main shop floor. Reaching past his static twin he grasped the door handle, pulling it fully open. He fished his wand out from the back of his jeans and muttered 'lumos'. Immediately the tip of his wand began to glow, emitting a circle of light that illuminated their immediate surroundings. He pointed it down the yawning blackness of the stairway where it exposed the wall at the bottom of the stairs. What would they find around the corner? The first step creaked under his weight and then the second, the first repeating the noise as George followed behind him. Fred turned to reach for his cold fingers and together they slowly made their way down the dark stairway. Even in a store like theirs had been, the basement had always managed to retain its link to the horror story. Finally they reached the bottom, their senses heightened and completely alert to their surroundings, half expecting some remnant death eater to jump out at them from around the corner to take their final revenge.

There was no death eater lurking in the shadows, but it was as they had expected as Fred cast the light of his wand over the contents of the cavernous basement. They had hoped, they had dreamed that their stockpile would have lain undiscovered by the death eaters, but their optimism could only lead to more pain. The smell of smoke once again greeted their nostrils and the sight of a blackened out room met their wide eyes like a ghastly reflection of the carnage that they had left on the floor above. The death eaters had been so thorough in their destruction that not a single piece of merchandise had been left unharmed. Fred raised his wand higher, casting the sphere of light on the far wall, both twins gasped at what its glow revealed.

Incestuous Fags

"Well this time whoever did this hit the nail on the head eh," Fred tried to laugh. George stared at the insult with pursed lips, allowing their newly found love together to also be tainted by dark thoughts. They were disgusting, perverted he thought and they couldn't deny it. The lense through which he had been perceiving their blossoming romantic relationship for the last week was shattered. They both knew that the death eaters could not possibly know, but had simply chosen the most derogatory thing that they could possibly write for two young men who lived together without any interest in girls or dating. Angrily, Fred attempted to use scourify to remove the derogatory words spread on their basement wall, but no matter what he did the words refused to budge. He cursed aloud and noted that they seemed to have used a charm that had been made effective against vanishing spells. It would take them a while to find the right way to remove it. In the meantime those words would have to remain there for anyone wandering into the basement to find and guess their most deepest secret.

George had again become a statue, the excitement that had set his body quivering barely minutes before had drained out of him as quickly as somebody pulling the plug on a bath full of water. Alone as they were, with the squeaky stairs protecting them from discovery, Fred was able to do what he had wanted to do when his twin had been reminded of his still raw loss. He took him in his arms in such a manner that had he given into the urge when they were still exposed to the eyes of their family, it would have been clear that it was not just platonic love that existed between them, but one so deep and all encompassing of all forms of love known to humanity. He kissed his brow tenderly and endeavoured to remind him that although they were going to have start completely from scratch it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

"Don't forget love that we took samples of each invention with us and we have the recipes for everything. Heck, we even had copies of our notes locked in our vault at Gringotts. We prepared for this, remember? We knew that we were likely to be a target. We weren't stupid, all those precautions that we took will pay off. We can start again Georgie. It's going to be okay." His words were greeted with a quick press of cold lips to his and a loving smile from George, even though as he touched his lips to Fred's he couldn't escape from the feeling that what they were doing together was wrong, that they had twisted their relationship as twins in a destructive way.

"I know, they won't beat us Freddie, because I sure as hell am not going to let them... Not after everything," George asserted fiercely, his emotional state rapidly switching once again. "We need to do this for our family, as well as for us. They're not going to be fully happy until we're firmly back on our feet, it's our duty to make them happy. I failed once, I can't fail again..."

Fred seized hold of George's shoulders and forced him to meet his urgent gaze. "You listen to me carefully George. You did not fail, you hear me? You've got to stop being so hard on yourself love, you're going to drive yourself mad. You did the best that you could, gave more than anyone could have possibly expected you to give during such a time. If you carry on giving in to this guilt for much longer you're going to be trapped in it forever, please let it go."

He let go of George's shoulders and gently pulled his head down to rest on his shoulder where he began to cry. "Let go of this guilt my love and then maybe the darkness won't have such a hold over you, maybe the thought of what happened won't dog you every day as it does now."

George raised his tear stained face to Fred and shook his head sadly. "I don't think it's ever going to let me go Fred. I'm sorry. I really don't know what's happened to me, we were supposed to be happy now. Why aren't I? I've ruined-"

Fred silenced him with a finger to the lips. "What did I say about guilt Georgie?" To his surprise and delight George smiled and laughed, the sound that was most dear to Fred Weasley in all the world. He took Fred's hand and drew him back to the steps away from their crushed hopes, back to the concerned family who were beginning to wonder what was keeping the twins and whether they should go in search of them. Fred tugged him back slightly at the foot of the stairs to make him pause and turn back to him.

"Georgie," he hesitated. George raised his fingers to Fred's smooth cheek, drawing them down over the smooth skin. The slight shiver that coursed through his twin's body filled George with a warmth that helped to cast those dark thoughts away. Their relationship was a matter of perspective he told himself, until people crossed to their side of the societal divide they could never understand how much more beautiful things were in their world.

"You don't think about us like that do you?" Fred bit his lip, jerking his head in the direction of the graffiti as he waited for George to answer, praying that his opinion would be the same as his own, that the 'normal' world opposite theirs was so dull and colourless, so full of constraints that it took no account of things that were simply meant to be.

"Well we are incestuous bro," George gave a deep throaty laugh. "Sometimes I let myself think that we're committing an unforgivable taboo and that there's something deeply wrong with us..." He paused to encircle Fred's waist in his arms, as closely as two bodies could be and leaned in towards those heavenly lips. "But most of the time I think, no, I know that on our side of the fence there couldn't be anything more beautiful than the two of us together. Besides true sinners aren't as happy as we are with each other," he finished with a whisper.

Fred's chocolate tinted irises were filled with relief as he smiled at George. "I was hoping that you'd say something like that. It's just a shame that other people are never going to see our world as something bright and colourful rather than diseased."

"As long as we know that, what does it matter what other people think?" George finished their exchange, pressing his now much warmer lips against Fred's equally heated ones. He raised his right hand to cup Fred's jaw, long fingers splaying out to caress the side of his neck as he felt Fred's identically elegant digits slipping into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. They both closed their eyes and surrendered to the blissful feeling of their lips moving together, heightening the connection between them. George nudged Fred's mouth further open so that he could insert his tongue into the sweet depths of his twin's mouth and meet Fred's own. They kissed like that for several minutes, open mouthed, deeply, messily so that when they finally pulled away to smile at one another, George laughing had to wipe away the trail of saliva that was smeared on Fred's chin. It was not a moment too soon as they heard the tell tale squeak of the top step and saw the white glow of another's wand casting down the basement to where they were stood, now attempting to look as casual as possible.

It was Bill. The white glow cast the gruesome scars that he had received from Greyback into relief, but despite the presence of the long gashes it only helped their eldest brother to look even more 'cool'.

"Didn't they find your stores then?" Bill asked hopefully, assuming that the reason they had been so long was because they were looking through the merchandise that they had.

"Nah, buggers got it all, we were-"

"Just talking," George finished rather lamely.

Bill considered them with a penetrating stare for a couple of minutes and made to come down the stairs to meet them. Immediately, both the twins rushed up the stairs nearly bowling into their astonished brother and began to chivy him back through the door. Fred slammed the door shut behind him and locked it, the twins both stood with their backs to it, smiling at their eldest brother as if nothing out of the unusual had occurred. Bill blinked several times and raked a hand through the ruthlessly short haircut that his Mother had insisted on giving him. He mumbled that the others were waiting for them near the front and shuffled off, still considerably confused.

"Probably could have been a little more subtle there-" Fred said, half smiling, half grimacing.

"Nah, Bill already thinks we're weird, now he just knows it," George grinned.

From the looks upon their family's faces, it was evident that Bill had already relayed the grim news to them. Most had no idea what to say to comfort them beyond that which had already been said. How could you tell one who had lost everything that it would be okay? Fred could not quite summon the objectivity needed to keep the slight grudge towards a stunned and silent Harry out of his gaze. He remained convinced that had he not chosen to use his twin as a means of allaying some of his own guilt, that George would not have just heartfeltedly confessed his sense of self condemnation. Percy was the first to approach them as they reached the main shop floor, expressions carefully crafted to ensure that no hint of what they had found beyond destruction of their wares was readable from their faces. Their elder brother re-adjusted the way that his glasses were perched upon his nose before drawing them to the side to talk to them privately.

"George, Fred I'm really sorry," Percy murmured quietly.

"Don't be, none of this is your fault Perce," George said in his most warm, comforting voice. "It's a shame that we never had the chance to show you round when it was in a slightly better condition-"

"Not that we want you to feel guilty for not seeing it," Fred finished the thought that his twin had not imparted.

"Well," Percy began with the sort of sly smile that they had never seen him wear before. Percy up to something covet? It hardly seemed possible from the stiff necked and rule conscious brother that they had grown up with. The twins liked this new Percy very much, perhaps no longer would they be the complete opposite personalities, but instead succeed in finding more mutual ground.

"I did see it in fact and bloody marvellous it was as well," he beamed at them, eager to please and assist in breaching the gulf that had opened between them all through his treachery. The twins exchanged surprised looks, wondering how on earth they had failed to notice Percy of all people perusing a store full of the practical jokes and gizmos that he professed to so detest and abhor. It would have been like looking at a Penguin in the desert, completely out of its natural habitat.

"I was really curious about what you two good for nothings had managed to achieve," he teased lightly. "It was after Voldemort was sighted at the ministry and I knew that I'd been sorely mistaken, but was still too proud to admit it to all of you. I waited until you both left on some errands in the alley and had a look, your assistant didn't recognise me."

The twins looked at each other again and erupted into smirks. "Well we had made some additions to the pictures that we showed her of you," Fred snickered.

Percy smiled, allowing himself to admit for the first time that he usually found the twin's good natured ribbing to be rather amusing. "Anyway, the reason that I wanted to talk you especially-"

"Apart from revealing that you're more of a sneaky bugger than you pretend to be," George added smiling.

"That too. I wanted to say that if you were struggling for funds to rebuild everything that I've been saving a portion of my wages for a while and I can think of no better cause for them than my brothers." He looked from one twin to the other as he waited for them to respond.

As was typical in such situations, it was George who pushed past his surprise to warmly thank their latest benefactor, whilst Fred, lost for words nodded his agreement with his twin.

"But we can't accept it Perce, not when you've worked so hard for it," George refused, much to Percy's astonishment and admiration that they were determined to achieve things the hard way.

"And especially considering that that money was earned from a job at the boring old ministry no less!" Fred grinned.

"We'd feel guilty taking it from you," George explained.

"Not that we aren't tempted mind you," Fred exchanged a smile with his twin. Percy watched the look that passed between them with unguarded interest. It was impossible to miss the love that was in both of their eyes and he found himself learning more about them than he ever had before. He'd never taken them as blokes who were much inclined to any feelings or emotions that didn't concern humour, seeing affection and demonstrations of love as displays that were both embarrassing and unnecessary. How wrong he'd been, he thought.

"Alright then I won't press you now, but I'm determined that somehow that money is going to find it's way into your pockets," Percy smiled, eyes shining with a stubbornness to make the Weasley twins proud before walking away to join Charlie.

Fred took another sweeping glance at their store and sighed deeply, moving ever closer to George; his bright hair one of the few points of light in the dark. Steeling themselves, George and Fred once again excused themselves in order to finally investigate their flat. Approaching the door that led through to the stairs that wound their way upwards to their first home together, their safe haven, George freed his wand from the back pocket of his jeans to remove the enchantments that they had placed in protection of their humble abode. They didn't want their family accidentally springing the unpleasant surprises that they had left for anybody who attempted to break their sanctuary. Feeling much calmer now and more like his usual laid back self, George turned the handle and ushered Fred through, closing it firmly behind them. The gathered Weasleys watched it shut, incredibly proud of the front that their twins had painted over their sadness; they had never realised just how strong they both were until now.

So far so good, the twins both thought as they stomachs churned with suppressed excitement at the sight of the unblemished, colourful walls of the stairway. The death eaters had clearly not made it this far. But frequent disappointment and extinguishment of hope had taught the twins never to take a good thing for granted and so they continued to be wary and keep their anticipation in check. The staircase seemed to stretch on for an age, the landing appearing as a mirage, never appearing any closer, keeping them prisoners in their bubble of hope. Finally, they felt like they were rising and were soon stood before the door to their flat. George sought Fred's gaze for a second in comfort before firmly turning the door handle and pushing it back on its hinges.

George flicked the lights on and immediately felt a resurgence of hope fuelling his worn out system. Their flat was exactly as they had left it that morning when they had gone down to work and been forced to flee by the death eaters who had sought to capture and torture them for information. A daily prophet dated the 1st of March was lying open on the coffee table; a large image of Harry with the caption 'Undesirable number one' above his bespectacled face. As they moved into the flat's small kitchen, the fumes of two month old unwashed dishes greeted their nostrils.

"Knew we'd regret not washing those straightaway," George grinned.

"Yeah, this place has smelt better mate," Fred sniffed with distaste, running his fingers over some sheafs of recipes that George had left spread over the counter for that night's dinner.

"I can't believe they couldn't break the enchantment," George said, a hint of pride at their magical proficiency working its way into his voice.

"Hell of a shame they didn't try," Fred exaggerated a sigh. "What a waste of those traps and now we need somebody else to be the guinea pig for our shrinking door frames." From George's suddenly grim expression he knew that he was thinking of how currently suitable Rita Skeeter would be for their latest experiment.

Next they moved into the bedroom they had shared together, complete with the twin beds covered in chequered quilts. A blush spread over George's cheeks as he imagined their new life together once they eventually moved back into their flat, seeing a double in the place of the two singles; a life which would have to be confined to their flat, only here and in their room at the Burrow could he outwardly be Fred's boyfriend. But such unpleasant thoughts didn't occupy him for long as he thought of how here they would not need to hide as they did at the overcrowded Burrow. There would be no need to fear the intrusion of an unwitting family member should their masks shatter through a forgotten unlocked door. Here they could snuggle on the couch, kiss to their heart's content in the kitchen whilst they waited for the kettle to boil and... make love in the bedroom should they take that last forbidden step on their path to heaven. He knew that Fred's thoughts had travelled in the same direction as he wrapped his arms around his twin's waist and nuzzled his cheek against his, warm breath tickling his skin.

But from here their thoughts diverged as George took in the articles of clothing that they had left strewn about the place, the unmade beds, the framed pictures of them that decorated the walls. He could feel how he would have felt coming back here if Fred had remained lost to him forever. He felt himself to be living two lives simultaneously, the one where he permanently lost and the one that was his most deepest desire. They both couldn't be real so which was the reality, was this nothing but a dream? As he processed this idea further, the pain of loss rushed back over him full force all at once and he struggled to catch his breath, porcelain skin turning even paler. He staggered sideways against the doorway in spite of Fred's arms being wrapped snugly around him.

"George! Georgie! What's wrong?" He both heard, yet did not hear Fred's urgent voice, nor quite registered the cool fingers now cupping his face. He blinked confusedly at his very alive twin as he transferred from that alternate reality where the love of his life was just a ghost. He fell into Fred's arms sobbing his heart out as his twin cuddled him as close as humanly possible and murmured seemingly nonsensical words of comfort, but which made the utmost sense to them. Fred pressed kisses to George's forehead, hoping that the sound of the click of flesh upon flesh would rouse George from the place to which he had retreated. Eventually Fred managed to lead his distraught and shaking twin to sit on one of the twin beds.

"Darling I think you might... no, you have PTSD," Fred told him gently.

"What's that now," George sniffed, having managed to compose himself slightly.

"You know post traumatic stress disorder. It's not surprising given what you went through, I kinda knew that it was inevitable, but you kept insisting that you were okay now after that day that you broke down in the bathroom and I wanted to believe you so much." Tears of his own clouding his vision, Fred stroked George's cheek and pressed it to his chest so that he could feel the reassuring beat of his strong heart.

"Oh," was all that George managed to say, acknowledging the truth of his twin's words and admitting to himself properly for the first time that this was something he could not move past as quickly as he had hoped.

"I'll be here for you every step of the way love, it will get better...I promise. We will rise again."

And rise they would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry for the long wait folks but finally here it is, any thoughts are much appreciated and very motivating! An extra special thank you this time to my beta reader alenafarlon for helping me write the start of the chapter. This chapter got long writing it so I've decided to break it into two parts, I'll start working on part two as soon as I get back from my holiday. And thank you to the readers who've stuck with me through such a long piece, plenty more chapters still to come so I hope you continue to enjoy the story!
> 
> Weasley Twins2


	35. Rise From the Ashes: Part Two

_ Grey ash coated the beautiful auburn hair that he had always thought to be as soft and sleek to run your fingers through as a fox's fur. _

_ He saw the enchanting brown eyes that had always been directed at him with love and kindness now filled with unimaginable suffering as they stared at him as if he were a ghost. _

_ He was smiling, that subtle twist of the lip that wasn't his familiar smirk, but the sort of smile that he reserved specially for him. Were you thinking of me in your last moments? _

_ An explosion, like none that they had ever seen or made before. Then blinding pain and the realisation that he was leaving George forever, breaking the promise, the assurances that everything would be okay, that they would always be together...Forever. _

_ Voices. Malicious, taunting him with his loss, saying that none of this was real, it was just a dream that his grief filled mind had conjured...he'd finally gone insane. _

_ Echoes of screams and cries as his spirit drifted around the netherworld, a shared pain, an unendurable separation. _

_ A pulling, a terrible sensation that something vital inside of him was being wrenched away by some unknown force. Invisible scissors held open hovered over the bond that connected them both. _

But the scissors never snapped closed with horrifying finality... the bond had held true.

 

The two young men holding each other were drawn back to the present from their shared experience as ghosts of their recent past, one grasping on to the words of comfort that his love had softly, almost sensuously whispered in his remaining ear and the second contemplating the gaping hole that he had so unwillingly torn into the other's heart.

"We've both finally gone cuckoo," the elder quips, tracing one long forefinger over his companion's cheek and then slowly down over the curve of his neck and the exposed collarbone.

"Yeah, hearing voices in your head is usually considered the first sign of madness," the other is able to grin now.

"Not that it wasn't expected eventually. I just thought that it would take longer than this."

"Well we've always been queer and now..." a soft kiss, a low moan, "the word has new meaning." Fred and George pulled apart slightly, to better gaze into the humour that was in both of their expressions, both surprised that they were still able to summon that ever ready ability to make a joke. Laughter, it seemed, was still part of their very essence, the building blocks of their DNA. No matter the pain or the fear that presented itself to them, that joyful flame that flickered within them, that love of life and appreciation of the very chance of their existence could not be extinguished. The flame would triumph over the shadow in the end.

The sound of feet clanking up the stairs was quickly perceived by them, ears twitching like a fox's at the sound of its prey. They exchanged looks, but decided that they couldn't very well turn away their approaching family member from their door, not when they had come to support and be with them. No, instead they would draw on that steely determination that had never failed them when needed to play their usual affable and amusing hosts.

 

Ron's face appeared around the doorway, his face lit with curiosity to see where his elder brothers had been bunkering down since they had officially moved out of their childhood home. The twins had walked back into the living room at the sound of an immanent arrival, all traces of sadness carefully hidden away and replaced with their all too familiar smiles.

Ron grinned at the sight of them smiling; happy twins was something that the whole family had become so accustomed to that when they had disappeared, a large void had seemed to appear amongst their ranks. The smiles, grins and laughs of the twins were reassuring. They were the life and soul of the family, so when they were unhappy, all joy appeared to have been sucked out of all of them. This rather strange fact of life for the twins had made their responsibility for other people's happiness startlingly large, they both had such an affect on people with their charismatic charm that by their very natures they had unwittingly lended themselves this peculiar power to control the emotions of those surrounding them.

"What is that smell?" Ron's nose crinkled with disgust, as the waft of two month old mould invaded his nostrils.

"You don't want to know," Fred teased him with a wink, suppressing a laugh at the sight of his little brother's startled expression, who no doubt believed that what he was smelling was the remnant of another of their dangerous experiments. George's remaining ear twitched, highly tuned to his twin's sweet voice. He remained silent, not trusting himself to speak in Ron's presence lest his voice shake with the feelings that he was trying so hard to suppress. But after regarding him again, even Ron was able to notice a fakeness that had never been part of the twin's ready smiles before. It saddened him deeply to see how much the war had changed them. He thought of asking if George was okay, but it was so very clear that he wasn't that the words seemed pointless and devoid of any meaning.

"Thank God that they weren't able to get through... that you didn't lose everything," Ron said, observing the state of their living room.

"Yeah," Fred replied simply, feeling weary all of a sudden. Ron looked at him as if waiting for him to add some funny remark.  _ Since when did Fred ever utter a sentence that wasn't witty?  _ Lots of times, he had to remind himself. He felt like a blinkered horse, with narrow tunnel vision, only really seeing the part of the twins that he wanted to see and ignoring all the rest that made them human. But now he had woken up. To avoid looking at the sadness underneath their smiles he took to gazing around their living room, smiling to himself at the merchandise that was scattered haphazardly around in a manner that would never have been allowed at the Burrow. His eyes flicked from the twins' tall frames to the relatively low ceilings and frowned. "This place is a little small for you two ain't it?"

"Nah," Fred shrugged. "We like it, it's..cosy." He said, this time with a genuine smile, as he thought of all the times that he and George had snuggled on the couch or in each other's bed's for comfort or to simply enjoy the warmth of their twin. He turned to George, ever more glued to his side than in the past and shared a fond smile with him. At the sight of their affection and strong bond, Ron suddenly felt lonely and imagined how brilliant it would be to have somebody with whom he could turn to that understood him completely.  _ Neither of them had ever known true loneliness until that fateful battle, _ he thought _ , it was no wonder that George had struggled to cope with such an unwelcome new sensation _ . Little did he know that they had, in fact, experienced it; each burdened with a seemingly terrible secret that had isolated them from each other in such a crucial way over the past months.

"Anyway guys," they turned to him then, finally severing their gazes from each other to cast their intelligent brown eyes upon him. Their eyes were still so bright and piercing that Ron felt as if they could see right through him.

"The others sent me up here to ask if you'd like to pop down to the Leaky Cauldron to have lunch and you know, talk about stuff. About what your plans are and how we can help you guys," Ron relayed. Suddenly filled with emotion and anger at the unfairness of their situation he added fiercely, "and I'll help you in any way that I can, I'm so sorry that this has happened to you after...everything. I know how hard you worked for this and for it to be gone so soon, I can't imagine how devastating that must feel. But you don't have to do it alone this time. Hell, even now Mum must appreciate that you're both bloody brilliant. She'll be helping you make ruddy skiving snackboxes with her bare hands before you know it!"

Again they exchanged looks, but this time rather than a soft tender glow at the other, their brown orbs radiated surprise. Fred grinned at him, it was nowhere near close to matching the way that he had seen him look at George, but still it was with fondness. "Hermione was doing you an injustice it seems; your emotional range is far greater than a teaspoon Ronniekins."

"I love you guys," Ron said suddenly with feeling, dropping his gaze with embarrassment to stare intently at his shoe laces.

"Aw, we love you too," George smiled, speaking for the first time since Ron had entered the room.

"Yeah we do, you soppy git," Fred's top lip quivered into his infernal smirk. Before he could blink, Ron found himself enveloped in a Weasley twin sandwich, squished between their two thin bodies. He hugged the twin that was in front of him tightly before turning with difficulty to embrace Fred.

"Right..well." he began, detaching himself from them, their long arms happily seeking their twin instead. "The spoon is now empty, so don't expect me to be soppy ever again."

"Don't deny the emotions Ron," Fred grinned at him, waggling his eyebrow comically. "You can still be masculine without being a cold bastard you know."

"You're right, of course," Ron acknowledged. "So are you guys coming or-"

"Give us ten minutes or so," Fred answered, just a quick glance at George told him that he needed another quiet moment alone to collect himself. "Then we'll come and join you."

"Well, don't keep me waiting too long," Ron grumbled. "I'm bloody starving, if you knew what I'd been eating for months." He shuddered at the memory of stewed mushrooms in a billycan and dwelled on the blessing that was their Mother's cooking as he exited down the stairs.

As soon as Ron's footsteps had echoed away, Fred turned back to George with a wry smile, sliding a hand to the small of his twin's back. "I'm not sure that I can see Mum of all people helping to make joke items." George shook his head in agreement, leaning forwards slightly to nuzzle into the crook of Fred's neck.

"No, I know that she's sorry for us, but she never really did fully approve of our chosen venture, even when she saw how well we were doing," he mused. Sighing, he lifted his nose from where it had been pressed against Fred's musky skin to take his hands and lead him to perch on the end of the sofa. They murmured quietly to each other, Fred kissing George's lips briefly, before turning George around and pressing his back against his own chest, leaning back so that they were laying back, and tucking his head under his chin, one hand slowly drawing circles over his stomach.

"You know as much as I appreciate our family offering their help, there's a part of me that stubbornly wants to do it ourselves," Fred confided.

"I know what you mean, for the first time we had something that was-"

"Ours," Fred finished nodding.

"Yeah, proof that we weren't just messing around, that we actually did have some talent, whatever Mum might have thought." George drew Fred's other arm around him, enclosing himself in his twin's embrace and intertwining their fingers.

"Exactly, and now I feel that we need to prove ourselves again, Georgie." Fred buried his face into George's hair, kissing the crown of his head. A comfortable silence passed between them, each of their brain's whirring, desperately trying to think of how they were going to move forwards from this destruction.

"I fear we're going to fall short of their expectations when they all gather round to hear our next genius plan," George worried, squeezing his boyfriend's hand.

"Ummm, not much we can say, apart from who's going to lend us another 1,000 galleons or so to put this right. We can visit our vault, check what we managed to save, but I doubt it's much now with all the payments that had to come from what we'd put away."

"That was the problem wasn't it. We had to put so much of the profit back into the business, that what we had managed to save was virtually drained away trying to stay open when no bugger was coming to buy our stuff anymore."

"That money we made from the owl orders at Muriel's would have been a good start," Fred's tone was full of gloom. "If the robdogs demanding their interest payments on the building's mortgage weren't threatening to seize it off us."

"So much for owning the building by this year," George sighed with frustration. "After we visit our vault, we'd better go and settle up, get them off our backs, Freddie."

"Yeah, good idea sweetheart," Fred murmured, letting go of one of George's hands in favor of carding his fingers through George's silky locks.

"Babe, we... we might have to face that..." George began in a pained voice.

Fred squeezed him tighter. "I know," he whispered. "But if Mum thinks we're sitting at a fucking ministry desk all day for the next fifty years..." he growled.

"I'd suggest the next best thing for us, Quidditch, but one look over me applying to be a beater and they'd just bloody piss themselves laughing," George smiled in his typical self deprecating way, as he poked at his depleted muscles. He turned slightly in Fred's arms to gaze up at him, running a hand over Fred's right bicep to gently squeeze it. A mischievous smile slid its way onto his face. "Oooh but someone's stayed in better shape than me," he cooed, in a tone brimming with flirtatiousness. Fred blushed, his eyes flicking to where George was looking.

"Not by much. You have always been a little skinnier though," he noted, pressing a kiss into the hollow of George's slender neck.

George laughed. "You were supposed to go with it you twit."

Fred face palmed before grinning and sliding George's hand further up his arm. "Oh yeah, how does my man like that?"

"Even better," George purred, turning round fully to face Fred. Sitting in his lap, their crotches pressed together, they nuzzled noses like affectionate kittens. Taking the lead, George cupped Fred's jaw, thumb caressing the lobe of his ear. The latter closed his eyes, every nerve ending in his body focusing on the feel of George's warm hand against his flesh. He felt soft, now wonderfully familiar lips cover his own, a quite moan emerging from the back of his throat in pleasure. George answered with a groan of his own, his left hand sliding down Fred's chest to grip hold of his hip. They pushed away thoughts of the chaos below to take comfort in each other, their kisses tender and full of love, yet suggestive of a fiery passion that had as of yet not been fully expressed. Fred's senses were overwhelmed as his beloved twin peppered kisses over his brow, eyelids and then down over his nose and cheeks. The minutes that went by could have been hours, there in each other's arms they lost all sense of time. Eventually when they realised that they were at risk of having somebody return to find them, they surrendered each other's lips with an audible popping noise as flesh left flesh. Wonder lit up both of their faces. Although the sound of an emotional 'I love you' was sheer bliss, the unique nature of their bond meant that words were not at all necessary. They read the love in each other's shining orbs, knowing exactly how the other was feeling. There wasn't any sensation in the world more comforting than that.

As much as the twins wanted to stay cuddled on the sofa, they reluctantly untangled themselves from each other's limbs and made their way down the stairs. George eyed the door to their right that would take them back through the shop and the one straight ahead that lead out onto the street. They both knew that at some point they would have to look upon the devastation again, but for now seeking to avoid the pain they stepped out onto the street. Fred waiting with hands stuffed into his jean pockets, whilst George secured the door. Fred moved to take George's arm, but paused at the clear  _ what are you doing Freddie _ look that George sent him.

"What?" He asked in a low voice, as George's eyes flicked nervously around the busy street. "We link arms all the time Georgie. It doesn't scream incest you know." He attempted a joking tone, but couldn't help but worry more about their body language in public, whereas before last summer neither of them had spared it a thought.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm being paranoid." George said, his tone apologetic. Smiling, he offered his arm to his twin, who slipped his hand into the curve of his elbow.

"We're more likely to arouse their suspicion, by putting a gap between us. That would tell them we were hiding something," Fred told him perceptively.

"Very true. I hadn't thought about it like that love." Despite Fred's reassurance, he still couldn't quite help himself from casting another quick glance around the street to gauge whether people were taking any notice of them. They weren't. The cobbled street was more alive than it had been during those dark dark months, but not one inquisitive eye focused upon them for too long. Many people, however, were pausing before their burnt out store front to gawp at it shock, blinking rapidly as if what they were seeing must be some illusion. Rather than being a pinpoint of light in what had been a long double row of dreary shopfronts, their store was now the one casting a pallor of gloom amongst the cheery stores that were displaying their wares in windows brimming with merchandise. Once a beacon of hope in a time of darkness, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was now nothing more than an unwelcome reminder of the war. Upon approaching their store, an hour ago, their eyes had been so focused on the burnt out shell before them that they had not noticed the comparison. It added to the dull ache in their chests, to the feeling that they were failing in their allotted role in life. They had developed an unspoken, mutual understanding from a young age that it was their responsibility to spread smiles during difficult times. What happiness could they bring to others, when they themselves were so scarred by recent events? Still worried for his twin's frame of mind, Fred gently enquired as they began to walk in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron, how he was faring.

"The harder I try to get those images out of my mind the more forceful they become," he confessed.

"Have you perhaps considered that we could maybe take you to someone who might help, Georgie?" Fred couldn't help but laugh at George's reaction to his suggestion. His twin snorted, eyes shining with amusement.

"Freddie, if all your words of comfort, patience, loving hugs and kisses can't make it completely go away then what's some parsimonious prick in a white coat who doesn't know me going to achieve? They'll just talk to me like I'm a loony, ask questions that I'm not willing to answer and after all that come to the conclusion that we've already reached that hopefully I just need more time. Not that I don't appreciate the idea," he added hastily, drawing Fred closer to him.

"Don't worry about my ego Georgie-Worgie, it was without doubt the shittiest idea I've ever had." he grinned.

"Perhaps not the worst," George's face was carrying the biggest smirk that Fred had seen since that night when they had been waiting on crenellated battlements to discover their fate. "Have you really forgotten that experiment that left you with no eyebrows." He couldn't help but snigger at the memory of the Fred's confused face at his hysterical laughter, until hands shaking, he had handed his twin a mirror.

"You couldn't look at me for days without laughing," Fred reminisced smiling. "It was so funny." They shared a laugh together, as they had done so many times before, the memory of Fred's blunder helping to calm their nerves as they approached the entrance to the Wizarding pub. But the sight of their family grouped together around a long wooden table, faces solemn and talking in low concerned voices flared up their sense of nervous anticipation. It didn't help that all heads leapt up at their entry, putting them in the spotlight in an uncomfortable way. They jumped out of the way of a waiter who barreled past them, holding aloft a tray full of tankards of foaming butterbeer. They nimbly navigated the crowded pub to stand before where their family were gathered.

"There you both are," Mrs Weasley beamed at them, in a way that had not been typical pre their Fredlessness. "We were about to send someone to look for you again." They muttered their apologies, before squeezing onto one of the benches next to Ginny, surreptitiously taking the other's hand out of sight underneath the table. It felt like a gesture of rebellion, a fingers up at the convention that would deny them their soulmate.

"Ron was telling us that the death eaters didn't manage to get into your flat boys," their Father addressed them, as soon as they had settled themselves down. "How on earth did you do it?"

Knowing his twin, now boyfriend, as well as he did, it didn't take explanations on George's part for Fred to know that his twin wasn't much in the mood for extended conversation. As had been typical in their school days he took the lead for them, not out of any sense that he was the 'dominant' twin in their relationship, but out of a mutual understanding that George was the shyer twin and preferred that Fred acted as their mouthpiece. It was a role in their duo that Fred had always approached enthusiastically, but now after recent events he, like his twin, wished to take a seat away from the spotlight.

"It was just the usual protective enchantments. You know, with a few alterations of our own. If they'd managed to see or get through the door then anybody who stepped over the threshold that did not have our genetic code would be wishing that they didn't." Fred glanced opposite him to see Ron's face pale, clearly thinking that something terrible was about to happen to him. Pre-war Fred would have enjoyed drawing out Ron's torment and lead him to believe that, no, they hadn't removed the enchantments before he had ascended the stairs to their flat, but both the war and the steady influence of George had softened him.

"Don't look so concerned bro, you're not going to die a painful death. We removed them straight away in case any of you followed us up." The look of intense relief that spread across his little brother's face was all the amusement that Fred needed. He felt George nudge him with his knee and glanced across at him, responding to the twist of his lips with a smirk of his own.

"Should have let him think that he was for a bit longer, Fred mate," Harry grinned, with an evil glance at Ron. His grin quickly turned into a pained expression however, as Ron had kicked him viciously underneath the table.

"Why didn't you do the same with your store?" Charlie questioned, scratching the ginger stubble on his chin. "Would have saved you all this mess to deal with."

"We took the precautions that we could, of course, but we didn't think that our customers would take too kindly to being jinxed on their way in to give us money." Fred smiled. "Tempting though, it was, with the ones that would always complain about our prices. And we didn't exactly get much advanced warning that the death eaters were heading our way. We barely avoided capture."

Ron's eyes were as wide as saucers, as his gaze fixed on Fred, occasionally flicking to the right to land on George. "Gee, how did you get out of there then." Fred launched into the story, happy to keep their minds occupied for a couple of minutes to give them time to formulate some such of coherent response to the question that they both knew would eventually be asked.

"And then George told me to leave him," Fred narrated as he neared the end of their escape, raising an eyebrow at his twin who smiled back. "And of course I said, ’Yeah sure thing, Georgie, I'll just be off then. Enjoy your stay with Bellatrix mate.’" Sarcasm dripped from his voice as he regarded George with a half exasperated expression.

"Like you wouldn't have said the same thing," George responded quietly in his rich voice. "And I would have said exactly the same thing that you did, that I could never leave you."

Rather than reassurance, a spasm of horror ran through Fred like a knife at George's words. He'd promised never to leave his twin and he'd broken that promise so completely in the worst way possible. He knew, of course, that it was stupid to blame himself, but if he had just stayed focused on the battle rather than making a stupid joke, he may have survived the blast. He would have had time to protect his head. _ It was because of my recklessness, my getting distracted that was the reason for hurting George,  _ Fred thought. The seeming truth of this new idea felt like a brick tied around his neck, threatening to sink him once again into the dark world of self hatred and guilt.

"I broke my promise," he barely let out in a whisper. "I left...you." Their family almost seemed to melt away from the scene, the noise of the pub becoming nothing but background noise in his head to leave only him and George. 

George leaned closer into him so that they were aligned shoulder to hip on the bench and placed an arm around his shoulders. "Don't be silly, Freddie," George's voice was soft and soothing, but it did nothing to detract from this new terrible realisation. "You didn't exactly have much choice in the matter." But still he understood how Fred was feeling in a way that the bemused eye of their family showed that they never could.

"Besides," George added bracingly. "It's turned out all right in the end, eh?" He saw the contemplation in Fred's returning gaze,  _ was everything alright really _ ?  _ No, but let our family think that it is _ , George wordlessly communicated with him.

"Dyers guilt," Ron interjected suddenly.

"You what?" Ginny asked.

"You know, like the opposite of survivor's guilt. I mean usually you can't ask the dead person what they thought about their death, but Fred's resurrection showed that maybe we need a new phrase."

"Well, in that case I think ve have got both dyer's guilt and  survivor's guilt aplenty," Fleur added perceptively, as she looked from one twin to the other. They acknowledged this wisdom with a nod, smiling at each other fondly.

"Too true," Fred smiled. "Last time I felt this guilty was when I stole a couple of your pretty Veela cousins from under old Lugless' nose." George could smile now at the memory. The sight of Fred flirting with several women at Bill and Fleur's wedding had filled him with both jealousy and sadness as he had considered that before long he would no longer be the most important person in his twin's life. But there had been no need to worry, Fred's extra flirtatiousness that evening had been nothing more than an attempt to push away his newly awakened feelings. They kept their arms around each other's shoulders, yes the fear of discovery and rejection was very real, but nevertheless Fred enjoyed the daring that went along with their simple gesture of affection.

"We've already ordered boys, I'm afraid, my poor Ronnie was just so hungry," Mrs Weasley informed them, passing a menu down the table to them. Fred spread it out so that they could both read it together, but neither twin had much appetite after the discovery of their blackened ruin.

"Anything you fancy?" Fred questioned as his eyes continued to flick from one unappetizing dish to another.

"Not really," George replied, leaving off his perusal of the menu and instead drumming his long fingers on the table. Upon seeing their reluctance to eat, Mrs Weasley had insisted that they at least try something. The twins backed down without a fight: sometimes it just wasn't worth it.

"We could just get one of the paninis with chips and share, George," Fred suggested, closing the menu with a snap.

"Yeah, good idea. I'll waste what little money we have left with a plate of my own."

Their Mother who was still watching them, raised her eyebrows in further concern. "Boys, we'll pay for you. No Fred, I'm serious. Take it. Go on, go and order and hopefully yours shouldn't be too far behind ours. Ask Tom if he can try and get them out together."

The twins took the money from their Mother with a smile and rose from the table to walk the short distance to the bar. Their family watched their tall figures as they went, none of them hiding their concern at all well.

"Both of them are still far too thin for my liking," Molly fretted to her husband.

"They're just naturally very slenderly built Molly-wobbles, so I wouldn't worry too much," her husband tried to soothe her. "I'm not surprised they're not hungry, given what they've just had to look at."

“I can't recall them ever being that thin before, even when we were in school,” Ginny responded. “Sure, they were lean from Quidditch, but they shovelled food down like it was nobodies business. I have hardly seen either eat more than a couple mouthfuls of food since before the war though.”

They all looked over at where the two redheads stood by the bar, shoulder to shoulder. Their heads were slightly turned towards the other, lips moving as they talked. The gathered Weasleys wondered what they were saying and whether there was a difference between their public and private behaviour. The way that they were being demonstrably affectionate in front of them, instead of just bantering suggested to them that there was a difference. The extent of it was as of yet unascertained by any of them. Having placed their small order, the twins turned to return to the table and immediately caught their entire family watching them. They exchanged looks and gestured in the direction of the toilet, bidding a hasty retreat away from their gazes.

They entered the Cauldron's dingy male toilet, checking that they were alone before locking the door behind them to prevent interruption. "Geez," Fred began as soon as the door was safely locked. "I felt like I had eyes boring into my back."

"I guess they're just concerned," George murmured, coming to stand behind his twin and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"I feel like we're a bloody zoo exhibit lately," Fred muttered back, leaning in to George's embrace.

His twin smirked at his comment. "Well you are so very beautiful that I'm not surprised they can't take their eyes off you,"he flirted, causing Fred to giggle softly. "It's really not surprising considering that suddenly we're the cause of all the drama, Freddie."

"Indeed. George... why did I ever like attention?"

"Because the kind of attention we got from making jokes and playing pranks was a very different sort from this type of attention. They laughed at what we said and quickly forget about us again until the next joke. It was the sort of attention that made us both feel good, almost  purposeful, you know. This...well I guess it's similar to Harry in a way. He could never go anywhere without people staring at him. You came back from the dead, if that doesn't rouse people's constant interest, including our family, what would?"

"You really are the brains of the operation," Fred complimented him, drawing his finger across the back of George's palm. He glanced over his shoulder to see his twin's smile at his praise. "What? Not going to disagree with me?" His voice was low, teasing.

George's smile widened to reveal the sparkling pearls of his teeth. "Well, you keep telling me off for being modest. Thought I'd try being an egotistical jerk and see how much better you like that." This remark amused Fred no end, finding it hard to see George as managing to achieve a persona anywhere close to that, although he couldn't help but tease him by pointing out that he only needed to look at what a grumpy bastard he could be in the morning.

"I'm not a morning person," George smiled. They both stared at the dingy cobwebbed walls for a minute or so, both racking their brains for some sort of plan. Plotting and planning was usually second nature to them, but they both felt as if their brains had turned to mush. George particularly found it difficult to imagine their future together when events of the past kept trying to persuade him to see it in a parallel light. George noted a crack running from ceiling to mirror in front of them, narrow at the beginning and steadily widening as it went on. Just like them. Before the war the cracks in their masks of joy had been so small that nobody but each other could see through them to the concealed emotions within, but after their difficult year they were much wider now. So much so that it was now possible for a perceptive eye to realise just how much they were hiding from the world. Part of them indeed wanted people to see beyond, to truly understand them, but there was always the fear of their reactions if they let them that kept them hastily re-applying the plaster. With a tender kiss against the nape of Fred's neck, where he knew that his twin liked it, George suggested that they'd better go back through. Ron would likely not take very kindly to them forcing him to wait any longer to sink his teeth into some delicious food. They decided that all they could do was to tell their family that they couldn't make any decisions yet before settling their financial situation.

As George had expected the food had indeed arrived; Ron was paused mid rising to come and hurry them up, locked in a heated argument with Percy. The twins approached the table, as of yet unseen due to the supporting columns that were hiding them from view. The closer they moved the more audible Ron's and Percy's voices became.

"Ron, are you really that stupid that you don't know why they haven't played a prank or joked much recently," Percy demanded. His tone was self righteous, but as he was defending them, the twins had no urge to tease him for it as they had done in the past.

"Yeah! There's no need to be so patronizing," Ron grumbled.

"You're being a bit hypocritical really if you think about it," Percy added bitingly. "You never exactly thanked them for trying to cheer up the mood."

"And neither did you!" Ron spat at him. Mr Weasley tried to intervene and hush their voices as they were beginning to attract attention to the table, but it was to little avail. The two brothers continued to glare at each other.

Fred and George ducked behind a pillar out out sight, the elder biting his top lip and the younger tapping his fingers fretfully against his thigh. Whispering together they decided then and there that regardless of how much they didn't feel up to it, they would make an effort to soothe their family's growing concerns for their mental well being and play the prank that they were all so anxiously anticipating.

"But what could we do though?" George too was now biting his lip as he looked to Fred for guidance.

"Those patented nightmare charms we created, we got to the wider testing stage remember?" Fred suggested with a purse of his lips.

"I dunno, nightmares probably aren't what people want right now, Freddie," George said, fulfilling his usual role of testing out the weaknesses in their ideas.

"Well, they're more comedy horror than  _ horror _ horror. We didn't let our mood at the time rub off too much on our creations."

George nodded as he placed a hand on his twin's shoulder, looking over in the direction where their family were seated, angry voices still filling the air. "Yeah, it's all we've got at the moment anyway. And besides." He jerked his head towards Ron and Percy's stand off. "We need to put an end to that." They backtracked slightly so that none of their family suspected that they had been within hearing range, letting them all see them from a distance. As they had suspected Ron and Percy's argument ceased at once and they both smiled welcomingly at the twins, only sending each other a nasty glance when they thought the twins weren't paying any attention to them.

George and Fred sank back down onto the bench, smiling at their sister who was regarding them with a questioning concern.  _ Good old Ginny _ , Fred thought. Out of anyone in the family, it was to her that they considered the possibility of turning to with their secrets. It was to her that they were the closest to out of those present and maybe, just  _ maybe, _ as a result of this, Ginny would be able to perceive what others couldn't. Indeed, the twins had a feeling their sister was beginning to form the suspicion that the Weasley twins were hiding many secrets of their own underneath their outward personas.

Mrs Weasley took in their sole plate of food with a mixture of disapproval and concern. "You should have got something each boys." Despite insisting that neither of them were hungry, the look in their Mother's eye persisted. George reluctantly picked up a chip, poking it several times into some ketchup to delay putting it into his mouth for as long as possible. As soon as it hit the back of his throat, he was forced to restrain his gag reflex and eventually managed to swallow it with difficulty. Next to him, Fred was also picking at their shared plate with distaste. They smiled at each other amused having noticed that they were each watching the other with concern. The elder twin took the larger half of the toasted ham panini, George shooting him a grateful look as he did so and began to chew mechanically.  _ It sure as hell wasn't anything like George's cooking, _ he internally grumbled. Fred shoved the food down, noting that George had not touched his half of the sandwich at all. He touched his leg gently underneath the table.

"Feel sick," he muttered, barely moving his lips. Indeed he had paled considerably, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. Fred grabbed the other half, hoping that their Mother wouldn't notice that George had hardly touched the food, wolfing it down so that they wouldn't finish miles behind everybody else. Worry gnawed at his heart, George needed to eat, but it certainly wouldn't do him any good if he threw up after being forced by their Mother to try something. At least he was keeping breakfast down. Grief and shock had removed George of all appetite and it was as of yet to return; their current situation was certainly not helping matters Fred thought. Nor did the sight of Ron sat opposite George, greedily guzzling down his food and wiping away grease from his mouth. His twin was taking deep lungfuls of air through his nose, trying to keep the nausea at bay. He was so tired of feeling sick, ever since he had lost his ear nausea seemed to be constantly creeping up on him. Nobody truly yet understood the full effects of dark magic on the victim and as Snape's Sectumsempra curse wasn't even a legal spell their Mother at the time hadn't been at all sure of the ramifications. She'd patched George up as best she could and that had been that.

There was the usual dull buzzing in the left side of his head that he knew would precede a blinding headache. Whenever he was anywhere that was particularly noisy, issues with his hearing flared up, the injury being incredibly sensitive. His ear canal may have been intact still, but losing the outer ear which, for all intents and purposes, acted as a funnel for the vibrations. The loss had significantly affected his perception of sound. Sometimes he had no idea where something that he was hearing was coming from. Today was particularly bad, he could  _ feel  _ the noise, but currently in his left ‘ear’ he was practically deaf and had to focus carefully on what people were saying. It had never been difficult to understand Fred though. If needed, he could read his lips like a book. 

Fred had become used to that unpleasant feeling of foreboding within the pit of his stomach that year and although it hadn't always been right, he couldn't help but listen to it still. It had been George's life that he'd worried and fretted about so much, but in the end it had been he who had died, he who had left his twin alone. But regardless this feeling couldn't be ignored; the effects of the curse were still plain to see. George still suffered from headaches, blinding pain in the side of his head where his ear had been, not to mention that apparition had become so much more difficult for him. Since the injury Fred had refused to let his twin apparate alone. It was far too risky considering that the sensation made George dizzy. The possibility of George splinching himself terribly or getting lost had been too much for Fred to bear. Was it just the stress making George lose his appetite or were the effects of Snape's curse rearing their ugly head once again?

He hadn't noticed that he had completely zoned out of the conversation that was occurring at their table, nor that he had been addressed directly by Bill. He only just became aware of George's fingers tapping at his leg. "Huh?" His vision refocused on the room, hit by the intensity of his twin's bright gold flecked brown eyes.  _ Beautiful. _

"You zoned right out there lil'bro," their eldest brother chortled. "We all wanted to hear what you plan to do, what we can all help you with."

Here it was then, they both thought. Fred sat up straighter, holding his spine rigid, chin held with an attempt at confidence. " Before we can do anything else, we need to check out our vault at Gringotts and then settle up with our investors. They expected a payment on the building a month ago, but with us being in hiding they were lenient. That way we can see what we've got to work with-" He felt pleased with the firm note to his voice, the easy smile that he'd managed to summon. George nodded beside him to reinforce his words.

"And I'm sure you've got plenty saved away boys," Mrs Weasley broke into the conversation. A cold shiver swept through the elder twin, he knew full well that the state of their finances was far from healthy. Fred's mouth gaped like a fish's struggling for oxygen to feed its gills, at a loss of what to say that couldn't be couldn't be construed as a lie.

"It's hands that we'll be the needing the most of us," a lower baritone voice rose from Fred's side. "We've still got four between the two of us, but if anyone's willing to lend a hand with the renovations we'd both be very grateful. I've got a feeling that a lot of the clean up job is going to be by hand, no doubt the bastards have cursed the place so we can't use magic to mend it." Surprised, Fred shared a discreet look with his twin, more proud of him than at any point in their shared life. In spite of how he was feeling, here again was George Fabian's innate strength to see them through their struggles.  _ God I love you, you wonderful human being _ . He hoped that his twin had understood what he was trying to convey to him through his passion filled eyes. It seemed that his beloved had indeed received the message, from the faint blush that spread over his porcelain cheeks and the way that he lowered his eyelids so that his long lashes brushed his cheek. George had indeed succeeded in directing attention away from their monetary concerns. They were met with dozens of voices warmly offering their assistance, even their Father and Percy who already had so much to deal with at the ministry promised to lend all their spare time to helping the twins get back up and running. The offers of help and support fired the twins up with energy. It was unusual, they were so used to being the ones that were providing that energy that it was a very different experience indeed to be on the receiving end for once. They reached an agreement that work on the clean up job would begin first thing the following morning, giving the twins enough time to set their affairs in order.

"We're just going to pop up back to our flat to fetch a few things before heading to the bank," Fred informed them, rising to his feet.

"Can we all come up and see it?" Ginny asked, her face flushed with excitement. Fred smiled at her enthusiasm.

"Our flat really isn't as exciting as you would all believe, but sure as long as you keep your eyes closed Mum. We hadn't done much cleaning on the day that we had to leave." After promising that she wouldn't hyperventilate at what she would likely consider a dung heap the large family left the warm pub to walk up towards the twin's store.

  
  
  



	36. The Baring of the Souls

Once again the scene of destruction hit their gazes like a bullet, but the twins had become accustomed to it and soldiered on bravely, not allowing their eyes to rest for too long on the graffitti.

"We need to do something about that as soon as possible," their Mother murmured. Fred's insides did a somersault at her words, what did their Mother think of the accusation that they were gay? It was likely that she did just see it as graffiti and nothing more, but there was an edge to her voice that allowed the twins to interpret that she thought that some people might believe it to be true and cast ridicule on their family.

"Yeah," Fred answered her, not wanting her suspicions to be roused by two silent and guilty looking countenances. "I doubt the death eaters did that, probably some bloody youths who thought it would be funny." Their Mother nodded and relief flooded both of the twins stomachs. They didn't risk looking at each other, but still were able to know by the relaxing of the other's shoulders that their twin was feeling the same, not to mention the invisible bond between them which had flared into life after its attempted severing.

As they neared the side entrance, George reached into his jean pocket to retrieve his key. Their family followed him and Fred up the narrow staircase that led to the front-door of their flat. They exchanged a swift look, deciding to put their prank into operation, hoping that it was what their family wanted of them.

"Welcome to our lair, enter at your peril," Fred greeted the arrivals in an ominous tone, as they filed past one by one to squeeze into their living room. He waggled his eyebrows at Ron and closed the door behind Fleur, it met its frame with a thundering bang, the whole family jumping out of their skins. The twins exchanged smiles over the other's heads as they tried to force themselves back into prankster mode.  _ Oh this is going to be good Georgie boy. You bet Freddie _ , they expressed through their eyes; Fred nodding his head at the gathered Weasley's who were examining the room dubiously. The first prank was on!

Charlie howled in pain, as a nose biting teacup that he had unfortunately stepped on had evolved to become a toe biting one instead. Bill jumped back in horror, narrowly avoiding the seeking teeth of a fanged flyer lurking in the shadowy corner. With utterly perfect timing, one of their demon boxes decided to jump around, hideous noises emerging from within. Harry who was stood closest to the table where the twins had deposited it beat a hasty retreat into the center of the room, bumping into Hermione in the process and spooking them both further. Their idea hadn't even been set in motion yet, but their flat which was at best hazardous at times seemed to be doing much of the work for them.

"I suppose the test subjects- family would like a tour," Fred finally drawled in a voice that was reminiscent of a serial killer in a horror movie in the process of luring their victim into a place where nobody would hear them scream.

George held the door into the hallway open for them, a disturbing smile on his face as he eerily watched each of them file through quietly after Fred, who secretly winked at him before leading the way; his back hiding the smirk that was itching to break out on his face. The hallway's lights were dimmed. Smiling goofily as he followed Percy's retreating back into the now cramped hallway, George surreptitiously drew his wand from the back of his jeans. Holding it behind his back, he flicked it to the side. Immediately the lights in the hall went out and a piercing scream erupted into the pitch blackness. George chuckled to himself rather than shout and cry in panic as the others had done, bumping and jostling into one another in their haste to find the exit. Meanwhile Fred had pushed their laboratory door slightly ajar, a chink of daylight from the room's window seeping into the hallway where their family were stood frozen petrified. His twin winked at him again as he re-pocketed a bright red screaming yo-yo that minutes ago had been on a bookcase in the living room.

"Bloody hell, Fred, what was that?" Ron's voice emerged from the darkness.

Fred didn't answer, but merely continued to smile, a wide grin that showed the whites of his teeth, the light from the lab casting an other-worldly glow on his face, distorting his features. He pushed the door open on its hinges slowly so that it would emit an unpleasant high pitched squeak as it moved. Meanwhile, George had used the cover of the darkness to silently work his way past their family to re-emerge out of the gloom by his twin's side. Everybody started at his sudden appearance, twins had a natural propensity for being slightly creepy and now Fred and George endeavored to use it to full advantage. They moved at exactly the same time to take several paces into their lab, shoulder to shoulder, moving in perfect tandem.

"Don't be shy folks-

"-This is what you came to see after all," they intoned in that eerie simultaneous way of theirs that succeeded in setting their family's nerves on edge even further. The door shut behind them, as soon as it had done so they both clapped their hands over each other's mouths to avoid the uncontrollable laughter that was begging to be released, waiting for their spell to take full effect.

Fred reopened the door, the Weasleys had huddled together in the small space, seemingly from protection from this creepy flat. They gulped at the sight of Fred, his hair stood on end as if he had been electrocuted, an enormous pair of vivid green goggles hiding his sparkling eyes. None of them knew that they were not seeing Fred as he was really was, but were instead part of a convincing daydream that was distorting how they perceived their environment.

"Enter," Fred boomed. Hearts in the backs of their throats the terrified Weasleys shuffled into the laboratory, gaping at Fred in shock. Mrs Weasley began to ask him what had happened, but thinking better of it decided to keep silent.

Fleur screamed at the sight that was presented to them.

Their latest spell had done the job nicely, (secretly cast over each family member by George as they had entered their flat) rather than shelves and shelves of colourful products on display, their family saw jars and bottles full of far ghastlier substances than could ever have been found in Snape's store cupboard. Entrails and organs, eyes that seemed to glare at them and worse a human skull set proudly on display.

"Ah finally," a voice that was familiar yet not came from further within. The tall, almost skeletal figure was clad in a long white apron that was spattered with...blood. He was brandishing a large gleaming silver knife, where he was rhythmically chopping up slabs of flesh. Under their trembling gazes he added the pieces into a large black cauldron on the desk, a green fire lit beneath it. He turned to them, a psychotic smile on George's face that they had never seen before. His eyes moved slowly from one to the other as if he were  _ counting _ them, before jotting a note down on a piece of blood stained parchment with a bone quill.

"We're both so disappointed that none of you have  _ popped _ by before-"

"You're all just what we've been looking for," George finished as he stepped closer towards them. They hastily backed away, staring at the twins in horror. What had happened to them? It seemed as if the immense stress that they had been under recently had driven them from eccentricity to insanity. He brandished a tape measure which he let drop out by Harry's side. He tutted before walking back to Fred and showing him the measurement.

"He'll have to do, a little scrawny, but we need somebody with the eyes of a green speckled toad," Fred spoke the last words slowly, staring directly at Harry who had shrank by Ginny's side.

"Indeed Freddiekins," George replied in an excited tone, selecting a long and terrifying looking instrument from where several more were displayed on the wall.

Fred watched him, a fond look on his face as he wiped his blood splattered hands on his twin's already stained apron. "Well we don't call you Gory Georgie for nothing my partner in  _ crime _ ."

"Wh-what," Charlie stuttered, "Guys?"

"Oh don't worry he'll take good care of all of you," Fred promised. "He does so enjoy his work don't you pet."

George nodded excitedly and advanced on Charlie, who fell over backwards in his efforts to get away from him.

"Oh I see this is a joke right?" Ron laughed weakly, looking unconvinced of his own statement. Fred swiveled round towards him, scissors in hand as he walked towards him snipping them together.

"Shall I tell you what I like to call Freddie?" George enquired conversationally, now very near Charlie, who had nowhere else to go. Behind him Bill was pulling urgently on the door handle, the door mysteriously and silently having closed fast behind them all. They were trapped with Hyde Fred and Hyde George. Each of them were so terrified that none of them even thought of reaching for their wands. The simmering cauldron suddenly flared into life behind them, spouts of colorful flame spouting into the air. The twins swiveled around on their heels and cackled in glee.

"Look, gory Georgie it's nearly ready," Fred clapped his hands together maniacally, before turning to face their family once more. There were now several pairs of hands in addition to Bill's pulling and even hammering on the laboratory door. More screams joined the sound of the flickering flames as sparks erupted from its black confines. Noxious smelling bubbles simmered to the top. Something was emerging through the steam, rising from the foul liquid. Clammy hands reached up to rest on the cauldron rim, raising a head and body so ghastly...It was Ron.

The real Ron screamed in terror and shoving past Bill and Mr Weasley exited the laboratory, leaving a Ron shaped hole in the twins thin plywood door. The rest of their Weasleys wasted no time in following his example as they fled the twins in utter terror. They had barely all made it back to the living room before the sound of raucous, uncontrollable laughter wound its way behind their retreating figures. Only now once they were back in the brightly lit cosy sitting room with various prank items scattered untidily around did it appear to them as it actually was, light, bright and screaming that the fun loving Weasley twins were resident there. They exchanged looks with each other, finding it impossible to be angry with the twins for scaring them so, but were each internally celebrating the first prank that Fred and George had performed in weeks. Surely now everything must return to normal.

Exasperated and amused at the same time they marched back up the hallway and pushed the laboratory door open, (Ron shaped hole mysteriously vanished) gawking at the transformation which the room had undertaken in such a short space of time. Gone was the noxious smell and the tall glass storage containers of grisly ingredients. Instead their eyes were overwhelmed by a spectrum of colours hitting their retinas at every angle they looked. The room was clean and tidy with a large work table in the middle. A filing cabinet was pressed up against the wall by the large bay window, its middle drawer pulled open to reveal stacks of papers and notes filed into a careful order. A large whiteboard took up most of the far wall, a complex collection of mathematical equations and diagrams in a multiplicity of colours covering every inch of it. But the element that was most noticeable was the shelves upon shelves of brightly coloured products, each clearly labelled with an accompanying list of ingredients that were required to craft that particular wheeze in two sets of similar yet distinguishable handwriting. Several jaws slacked at the sight of this gem of veritable genius, their admiration of the twins increasing every second that they took in the sights of their creativity and talent.

But their wonder at the evidence of Fred and George's brilliance was cut off by the two figures that wholly commanded their attention. The twins were in hysterics on the other side of the work table, one clutching it to maintain his balance, the other had already surrendered to the vibrating laughs and was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, shoulders shaking up and down with mirth. Fred raised his head at their family's return, an annoying yet cute smirk spreading across his features. On the floor next to him George was now attempting to gain control of the laughter by stuffing as much of his fist into his mouth as he could, but regardless the spasms of humour continued to erupt from his body in loud snorts. The elder twin opened his mouth to make some snarky comment on having fooled them all so well, but was devoid of the power of speech, having not yet succeeded in regaining his composure. Instead he continued to eye them with not at all suppressed glee at their joke.

"I'm going to get you back so hard for this," Ron declared. "You had me bloody terrified!"

"We did? I just thought that you were really desperate for the loo," Fred managed to splutter. Ron's face immediately coloured and he called them rude names under his breath, earning himself a truly terrifying glare from their Mother in the process.

"How on earth did you do it?" Hermione demanded, her head swivelling around the room, calculating the extent of transfiguration and the number of charms needed to have transformed the room; in such a short space of time the feat that they had pulled off was nothing but impossible.

"Well Granger, you lucky buggers have all just sampled our new patented nightmare charms. We were in the middle of developing them before we had to go into hiding and well, when such willing volunteers enter our domains..." Fred continued to smirk at them. "They allow you to enter a highly realistic scene of comedy horror, but by your reactions maybe we need to emphasise the comedy aspect a little more.

“You just used your family as guinea pigs?" Charlie said indignantly.

"Charlie, Charlie, people don't come in here and expect not to get roped into our latest experiment,..we didn't want to disappoint you all. Why else would you have so bravely ascended those stairs into our domains?" Fred snorted.

"I imagine your friends must avoid this place like the plague," Charlie grumbled.

"Yeah, that is probably why Lee kept excusing himself from coming over and hanging out," Fred sniggered, removing his hands from the table and standing up to his full height.

"What amazing magic," Hermione murmured, looking highly impressed as she had when they had told her about their daydream charms.

"I think Granger is trying to get herself a discount when we open back up, eh Georgie," Fred looked down to address his twin. All eyes turned to where George was still sitting by the wall, through the whole conversation still not able to compose himself. Fred smiled down on him fondly, all previous thoughts of his sorrow-drenched brown orbs forgotten. Yes, tears were still trailing down his cheeks, but for the first time since his foundations had been shaken he was crying with laughter and not grief. Not able to answer his twin he instead nodded his head vigorously, suppressed laughter still emerging from the back of his throat, adams apple bobbing wildly. Watching him with devotion, Fred reached down to hoist him up underneath his arms to a standing position. He brushed the strands of hair that had been shaken over his face with tenderness and couldn't help but cup his cheek, despite being under their family's watchful eyes.

But to Fred's horror as quickly as the laughter had erupted from his twin, now it bled away again; the slightly empty look returning to those moments ago shining eyes. George felt the happiness sap out of him as quickly as it had come, had it even really been happiness in the first place? No, he knew that it was just a forced reaction...hollow. He'd found none of the usual joy at all in performing a prank, pranks to him now seemed so pointless, powerless as they were to chase his much larger demons away. He feared that he was losing a grip on his sanity, the more grounded outlook that had often kept the duo from landing into serious trouble. It was unnerving and left him feeling vulnerable, but certainly not defenseless, not with the protectiveness that Fred was watching him with. Guilt pooled into George' stomach when he realised that he had also abruptly ended Fred's laughter and felt that he was dragging his twin down at every step of the way. He felt useless, weak and disgusted with himself. Suddenly, he couldn't bear to watch the worry that was in Fred's expression any longer and quickly excused himself by saying that he'd go and pack them a bag of extra clothes from the stuff that they'd left behind.

The atmosphere was suddenly so different to what it had been moments ago, all eyes upon George's retreating figure. Fred began to speak in an attempt to fill the void that had been left behind, although his words, lies that they were, tasted like ash in his mouth. "He'll be okay, I'm sure. It was just that the sight of our stuff exactly how we left it made him ponder the  _ what if _ a little too deeply if you know what I mean. He didn't really feel like playing a joke, but didn't want you to worry. We heard what you said, see." Everybody nodded in what they thought to be an understanding move of their heads, but Fred could clearly see that they didn't understand, not really. Only Ginny and Hermione looked as if they had a partial comprehension of what was going on with them.

Fred too excused himself, leaving their family to look admiringly over their shelves of examples to find George in their bedroom. He was sat on Fred's bed with his head in his hands, an empty bag sat next to him.

"Hey," Fred spoke gently.

"Please don't speak to me like that," George's muffled voice responded.

"Like what, my love?" He came to sit beside George on the bed and ran a soothing hand through his twin's fiery hair.

"Like I'm a bomb that's about to explode. I had enough of it when...when...you weren't here. The whole family was pussyfooting around me the entire time like I was bloody mad or something." Fred could hear the undertone of resentment in his brother's voice, understanding how frustrating it must of been that as well as being put through unimaginable grief he'd had nobody to understand him to boot.

"I'm sure they didn't think that, they just didn't know where to possibly start trying to comfort you...because there was no way that you could be comforted and you know that I don't think that." He kept the gentle and soothing tone to his voice, but George didn't seem to mind him using it now.

"I know you don't- I'm sorry." He sighed heavily, but finally lifted his head from his hands to look Fred in the eyes.

"What on earth have you got to be sorry about Georgie?"  _ What do you have to be sorry for you absolute angel. _

"It's not exactly what we had in mind is it? I was supposed to make them think that everything was fine." The anguish on George's face as he said those words made Fred feel as if his heart had been wrenched right out of his chest.

"But why should we try to pretend really? Let's let them see us as we really are for once so that they'll stop having these expectations of us. Heck, I want them to know the real us. Yes I want them to see our smiles, our laughs, our inability to often be serious, but why should we hide our bad days. Other people don't. Why should we hide when we're angry, sad or just downright depressed Georgie?"

"You're right, we shouldn't. But it's what we've always done. And you can see how weirded out they've been since you came back by our shows of emotion."

"Well they're just going to have to get used to it. People have always admired us for going our own way and being who we want to be, so let's show them who we  _ really _ are."

"I do want that, but I don't want people to look at us any differently." He wanted people to maintain their image for them as long as possible before they would eventually be irretrievably shattered in their family's eyes when they saw the name that was written on each of their hearts.

"But that's exactly what we need people to do, to understand that we're vulnerable like they are, that we're not unrelentless machines spitting out jokes and quips on demand, that neither of us could make jokes and laugh in the face of losing the other. For you to say, I'm not going to mourn guys because Fred wouldn't have wanted this, when it's so damned fucking cliche and certainly not what any of them did in the face of losing me or someone else. Harry was able to lock himself away for days when he lost Sirius, so why should it be so different for us?" He continued to stroke George's hair. With a small sigh he dropped his head onto Fred's shoulder and allowed Fred to peck him sweetly on the lips.

"You couldn't be more right." And he didn't begrudge Fred being right and him wrong one bit. They never had.

"Good, because I don't want you beating yourself up for something that's completely out of your control. Having post traumatic stress is nothing to be ashamed about. Hell, look at the state that I was in after you lost your ear. I was clingy, I wouldn't hardly let you use the bathroom alone. I'd wake crying, seeing you all bloody and lifeless. I was fucking  _ dead  _ George. If they can't understand that it's something you can't get over quickly, then they don't deserve you making an effort to make them happy. And I'm sure that they do, we shouldn't hide and then they'd be able to understand us more." George indeed remembered how affected Fred had been by the loss of his ear, by the introduction of the idea that death would not hesitate to separate them just because they were twins. The idea that their entire beings had been placed upon, that they would always be together had been torn from them. Words could not describe how relieved they were that recent events had given that view of their existence back to them with solid fact this time of how they could believe it to be the case.

Fred helped George to pull more of their clothes from the wardrobe and chests of drawers. They were starting to get sick of seeing the same shirts, having only packed a small portion of their clothing into the rucksacks that they had escaped with. As Fred emptied their drawers and wardrobe into the bag George had pulled from underneath his bed, his twin walked over to their bedside table. There he picked up a framed photo of the two of them, taken at their store’s Halloween special by one of their customers. They’d had no idea of how much worse things were going to get several months down the line. At the time losing his ear had seemed like such a significant event, but now it seemed as nothing. He hadn’t heard Fred step up close behind him, only registering his presence when he had wrapped his arms tightly around his waist.

Fred laughed as soon as he saw what George was looking at. “We looked so silly!”

“We did, I wanna take this too.” He handed it to his twin who hesitated before putting it in the bag. George raised his eyebrows at him in questioning. 

“Now that we know our flat’s okay, surely there’s no reason why we can’t move back in Georgie.” He looked at him hopefully, but disappointment flooded him with George’s shake of the head.

“The entire family’s at the Burrow Freddie for the first time in years. We can’t be the first ones to break that up, especially considering what happened. Mum won’t be able to bear the idea of letting you out of her sight just yet. And it might upset the others too.” 

Fred sighed and smiled at George ruefully. “Yeah, we can’t be selfish. I just keep picturing us here….properly together and able to do whatever we want without worrying that we’re about to get caught at any second.” Indeed, as much as they were both enjoying spending quality time with their family, they could never feel completely at ease by the notion that their much loved presence at the Burrow could suddenly turn into a blot on its crooked structure. 

“We’ll have that eventually Fred, babe. As soon as Bill and Fleur decide that they want more privacy and move back into Shell Cottage we can leave too.” They finished packing the rest of the belongings that they wanted to take with them, including several muggle gadgets that they knew their Father would be thrilled to examine at length. George threw one of their top hats to Fred who caught it deftly, rolling it down his arm with a flourish before clapping it on the top of his head.

“Very distinguished,” George purred at him.

“Oh yeah? Does somebody have a kink for me in hats?” Fred flirted.

“Baby, we’re only just getting started,” George chuckled, heading towards the door.

“I knew you had a darker side under that halo of yours.” George laughed at Fred’s remark, eyes shining again as Fred internally sighed with relief. Thank goodness. He hoped that whenever George sank into a stupor that he would always succeed in pulling him out of it. He ignored the worrying thought of what would happen if the day came when his best efforts at comfort were not enough. 

Their family were still in full admiration of their products when the twins returned to their laboratory. Fred swung the door open quietly and smiled to see that their family had pulled products from the shelves and were sitting around the large central table to look at them. Even their Mother was holding a weather in a bottle and debating with interest with Percy how it worked. Ron was stood to one side holding a box of sticky trainers, looking as if he was considering nicking them.

“We kinda need those mate, considering they’re the only box we have left,” Fred raised an eyebrow at him in mock suspicion.

“I wasn’t thinking of nicking them,” Ron answered indignantly, pulling down the hem of his jumper with what he obviously considered to be subtly. Fred snorted, not putting it past his little brother to nick stuff rather than paying what he called their “exorbitant prices.” The rest of their family raised their heads to smile at them. Mr Weasley waving their last remaining jinx-off set at them.

“Could we take this home to play boys?” 

“Sorry Dad, we can’t risk it getting damaged. Yeah, we’ve got the notes, but it helps to have one to compare a new batch with. Plus it’s the original set.” At George’s words, their family paused and suddenly started to handle their products with even greater care.

“Are these all the originals?” Fleur questioned them.

“Yeah,” Fred smiled. “So please don’t break anything. The only product that we haven’t got a first batch edition of is the Ton Tongue Toffee.” He glanced over at their Mother with a smirk, remembering how she had confiscated the whole lot of them when they had tried to sneak them to the Quidditch World Cup. Not even hiding one in the lining of George’s cardigan had been any use against the Accio spell. But in some ways the memory wasn’t amusing in the slightest. It had hurt to see their inventions being treated like rubbish and destroyed by their own Mother.

The twins walked around their laboratory slowly, opening drawers and noting down on a pad of paper what they had left. They communicated together in short clipped sentences that hardly made sense to the Weasleys, being only half a thought, but nevertheless each twin was able to understand each other as if they had uttered a full thought. Each admired how in sync they were, their ability to work together seamlessly. It was like watching a piece of beautiful music being crafted before their eyes. Fred opened a tall cupboard in one corner of the room, emitting a sound of joy as he did and hurrying George over to look. Their ingredient store here was still full, having been restocked only a few days before the death eaters had paid them a visit. It wasn’t going to make much, certainly not a shop full of their merchandise, but still it was a welcome start. George walked over to the whiteboard to examine the miray of equations, diagrams and lists where they had been planning out new ideas. There was not a mind in that room that was not astounded at this discovery of Fred and George’s talent, previously of course they had known that they must indeed be, but the difference between assuming and seeing was a wide one. The more time that went on, the wiser Fred and George appeared to be. 

“What on earth is that up there?” Ginny pointed to the highest shelf on the far wall where the words ‘Mysterious Midnight Moon Madness’ were just readable. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” George said. “Freddie will get it down for you,” he smiled at his twin who was stood closest to the product that Ginny was pointing at. Before the next words had even left their Father’s mouth, he realised the critical mistake that he had just made. But it was impossible for him to turn back time and undo it. He mentally cursed himself and risked a look at Fred, who’s eyes widened at him in both surprise and shock.

“Fred can’t do that with a broken wand George,” their Father interrupted. “Even you two aren’t that tall.” He smiled, looking highly pleased with the joke that he had just made. 

“Goodness, I’m sorry that I forgot all about that dear! Though thankfully you’ve not had much need of a wand this past week. We’ll have to see if Ollivander was able to salvage any of his stock,” Mrs Weasley fretted. It was unlikely that he had, considering that upon his kidnapping nearly two years ago, the death eaters, just like they had done to the twins, had torched his shop. So many lovingly hand crafted wands gone in the blink of an eye. 

“How could you of all people forget that your twin’s wand had been broken, considering the circumstances,” Ron asked them confused. The sharp look that George sent his way that said  _ please shut up now _ was completely missed by their younger brother. 

“Actually,” George began with caution, “His wand  _ isn't _ broken. I fixed it.”

“You fixed it!” Ginny piped up excitedly. If anybody could do the impossible than it was the twins she thought. 

“How wonderful,” Mrs Weasley beamed at both of them, until her tone suddenly turned stern and she reverted to a matriarch rebuking an errant child. “So why haven’t you got it with you Fred dear, you know my rule by now about making sure that you always have it with you to be safe.”

“Forgot it,” Fred muttered. The trepidation that was growing in his stomach loosened the mask, as his tone was far from convincing. They were so perilously close to having one of their crucial secrets revealed, a secret that could potentially lead to the discovery of one far greater and damaging to the love that their family held for them. He was not angry at George, far from it. It had been such an easy slip up to make. And there was a small part of him that wanted... that needed their family to understand them better. If this was the way to end the mirage that seemed to swirl around them  then so be it. If their true natures were finally understand by their family then surely George would no longer feel that it was necessary to hide how he was still struggling in the wake of Fred dying and holding forbidden feelings that could never be shared with anyone. 

The duo could have groaned aloud as Percy now decided to throw the spanner into the works that sent their perfectly oiled machine grinding to a halt. “You two might be the most devious members of this family, but you’re both still awful liars. You’re both too honest for that. Your eyes give you both away.” The two exchanged a look, they were both usually incredibly good liars when they needed to be, but today that skill had failed them both. 

“Boys, what’s going on?” Mrs Weasley looked from one to the other, hands on hips. “We can all tell that you’re lying Fred.” What use was there in denying it? 

Each twin could clearly see the fear that was in both of their eyes as they met, but thinking about the conversation that they had held they both knew that there was no reason to withhold the truth, apart from to maintain their facade. Their family could almost feel the energy between them, amazed at how two human beings could reach a decision without the use of language like the rest of them. They decided to reveal themselves as they truly were. George wanted their parents to know how much Fred had been hurting so that they could comfort their child. But they ran the risk of their family demanding an explanation for why Fred had been so depressed. Would they accept that stress and guilt over the wedding were enough? Panic began to fill him like a rising flood, the window to their deepest secret appeared to becoming more translucent as the seconds ticked by. They couldn’t reveal all to them… not yet. 

“I-I...Well, I took it off him after mine miraculously managed to fix it,” George admitted, his tone careful. 

“Why on earth would you do that?” Charlie’s tone was full of astonishment. George had hoped that the revelation that a wand in Fred’s state could be mended, when it had never been heard of before, would distract their attention long enough for him to collect his thoughts to form an excuse that would still hide their secret. But alas, it was not to be.

Fred took a deep breath, before taking the plunge. Never had he ever shown himself to be so vulnerable before to anybody but his twin. George never judged him, always understand him: could he say the same for the rest of the Weasleys? “You remember Georgie telling you that I’d been a little… well... not like myself-”

“Depressed,” Ron said bluntly, still not able to believe that he was using that word to talk about either of the twins. Fred winced at the sound of the word, looking down to a particularly interesting speck of dust on the floor. 

“Yeah,” George nodded. “I...I didn’t feel like I could trust him with it.” 

Hermione’s eyes went as wide as saucers, as a dawning understanding swept through her, but surely not? “Why on earth not George? You can’t be saying that...that you thought Fred would-”

“It wasn’t a case of what I t _ hought _ he might do,” George interrupted her sadly, heart sinking at the memory of  discovering Fred crying on the bathroom floor and covered in blood. He walked over to stand next to his twin so that he could gently touch Fred’s cheek, who was still looking at the floor in embarrassment. “But what I  _ knew _ that he’d already been doing.” 

“I don’t understand,” Harry spoke in confusion, eyes moving quickly from one twin to the other.

“I-I was, ….was…” Fred couldn’t bring himself to put into words that he’d been self-harming, confess to what he’d been doing to himself for months on end, day after day. 

George took a deep breath and placed an arm snugly around Fred’s waist, as if by his embrace he could shield Fred somehow. “He was hurting himself.”

“Hurting himself? How?”

George groaned. “Do you have to make me spell it out Ron? He was cutting his wrists. And god knows what else,” he added with a look at Fred. They’d hardly discussed the matter since that terrible moment in the Burrow’s bathroom. 

There was silence throughout the laboratory.

Nobody knew what to say, many of them feeling like the ground upon which their knowledge of the twin’s characters had been built had been wrenched from underneath their feet. Tears sparkled in their Mother’s eyes at the idea that one of her children had been in so much pain that they could have resorted to doing that to themselves.

“Frederick,” she barely whispered. 

It took all the bravery that Fred had to raise his head to meet the various expressions that were pinpointed in his direction. The feeling of George’s warm arm wrapping protectively around his shoulders gave him all the support that he needed to do it though. Ron looked dumbfounded, Fleur tearful, Ginny and Hermione understanding. Harry was wearing his usual guilty expression, making the twins realise just how much they had in common with him. Both their Father and Bill looked more shocked than they had ever seen them before. Charlie’s reaction was difficult to fully interpret, as ,like Fred a moment ago, he was staring at his feet. Perhaps it was guilt as well. Guilt that he had been nothing like the older brother that he should have been, always out of the country with only a vague idea of how the rest of his siblings, apart from Bill, were doing. But it was to Percy that both of the twin’s gazes landed for the longest. Tears had spilled over onto his cheeks; his expression was one of utter despondency. He looked Fred in the eye for a long moment, trying his best to convey how sorry he was that his brother had been hurting so badly.

“Are you better now?” Ginny’s voice eventually broke the silence. “You’re not...not doing it anymore, right?”

Fred nodded and then turned to George to beam at him. He raised his arm to wrap around George’s waist, before pecking him quickly on the cheek. He made no effort to filter the intense look of love that was in his eyes as he spoke. “No, my guardian angel has seen to that. Hasn’t even let me use the loo by myself since-”

“Since you found out, George,” Ginny said quietly. “How…” but understanding rapidly spread across her features and there was no longer any need for either of the twins to answer her. “It was when Fred suddenly fled up to the bathroom when we were talking before leaving for Remus and Tonks’ funeral, wasn’t it? George went to find you. I wondered at the time why you’d both been gone for so long. And then when you both came downstairs….I could tell that you’d both been crying.” George nodded, grateful that he hadn’t needed to describe it, knowing that he wouldn’t have been able to without becoming emotional. 

“How terrible that must have been for you to see George.” Their sister’s voice was filled with empathy as she spoke. George nodded, swallowing hard on the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. Immediately noticing this, Fred squeezed his upper arm, where his hand was still draped in reassurance. 

Percy had taken his glasses off and was busy cleaning them with his sleeve, deep in thought. He couldn’t believe that he had been so close to that terrible scene unfolding above them and had had no idea at all what was going on with Fred. As the person who often least appreciated their jokes, he perhaps understood best how they caused people to overlook the other aspects of the twins’ personalities. “You’d been doing it for so long,” he mumbled, placing the glasses back on his nose.

Mrs Weasley slowly moved over to where the twins were stood and with a loud sob grabbed Fred around the neck in what was nearly a stranglehold. With a half sad smile, George surrendered hold of Fred so that their Mother could hug him. If only she had been this affectionate towards them from the start, Fred’s depression may never have reached the proportions that it did. To everybody’s surprise and horror Mrs Weasley slapped him across the right cheek. It wasn’t particularly hard, but still the sound of hand against face could be heard. Both the twins were so shocked that neither of them reacted.

“Frederick, you promise me now:  _ never _ do anything like that again! What on earth were you thinking?” The tone of their Mother’s voice was one that would accept no denial of an explanation. Fred looked sideways to meet his twin’s eyes, knowing that George’ fearful brown ones were urging him not to reveal the main reason for Fred’s actions. George felt a slight resentment towards their Mother when he noted the red tinge to Fred’s porcelain skin, but understood that she had struggled to find the right reaction to what had been unprecedented news. Being angry with them was the first reaction that she typically had. Their shared look decided that they would reveal everything apart from their feelings for each other,

“Well,” Fred began slowly, leaning against their workbench to support himself, bringing his hand up to rub his throbbing cheek. George noted his movement angrily, biting his lip to stop himslef from snapping at their Mother. “It started after the wedding, you know what happened….I don’t want to have to tell the story again. If it wasn’t for my stupid recklessness, my utter disregard of the consequences….I wouldn’t have gotten Georgie more hurt. So I started hating myself. I don’t know what made me think of slashing my wrists, but somehow….it just felt  _ better.  _ The guilt went away for a while, because I felt like I was justly punishing myself. And then I ended up hating myself even more for pushing George away for weeks because of how I felt. We...we ended up arguing, in a way that we’d never ever done before. It was all my fault. I ended up saying hurtful, unforgivable things that I still don’t forgive myself for.” He tried to blink back the tears that were filling his eyes.

“Freddie,” George’s voice was close to a sob at his twin’s  words. He wrapped his arms back around his shoulder, leaning his forehead against the side of Fred’s head. Fred turned his head slightly so that their eyes briefly met, helping him to summon the strength to carry on.

“Understandably, after what I said, George wanted to get away from me. It was dark, it was raining. I ran after him, but he’s faster than me and I lost him down Knockturn alley. He-he….” Fred’s voice broke off, he couldn’t bring himself to tell their family what had happened next out of shame.

“I happened to run into a gang of Snatchers, got myself cornered without a wand. They beat the shit out of me and were going to leave me for dead until Freddie caught up and ….and got rid of them” George continued for him quietly. 

Their Father’s eyes widened further, his voice more serious than it had ever been when he spoke. “A snatcher was found dead there the next day. His entrails had been expelled.”

“Oh God,” Fred groaned. He turned around to face George, hiding his face from the rest of the shocked Weasleys. “I’m a fucking scumbag murderer.”

“NO!” George grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look at him, shaking him slightly. “You can cut that out right away. It was self defense Freddie, it’s not your fault that the cowards decided to abandon their mate and leave him to die.” Ginny had approached the pair as George had been urgently speaking and hugged Fred from behind. 

“You wanted to protect George, if anything they deserved whatever you did to stop them,” she said fiercely. There were murmurs of assent throughout the room.

“It was a duel, accidents happen in duels, Fred,” Harry tried to comfort him. “Even with the greatest wizard of all time,” he added thinking of the fateful duel where there was the potential that Arianna Dumbledore had been killed by one of her own brothers.

“What happened after you’d seen off the snatchers?” Charlie questioned with hesitation in his voice.

“George was in a terrible state. I knew I couldn’t take him to St Mungo’s, not with the kind of injuries that he had. And to make things worse he hadn’t been at all well, the injury had become infected see and he lay unconscious for several days. At one point I thought you were going to die, George, you were hardly breathing and your pulse was next to nothing,” Fred’s voice filled with anguish at the thought of the horrific memory. 

“And then I guess that you hated yourself even more after that Fred,” Hermione’s voice filled the silence that had descended with sympathy. 

“Yeah,” Fred nodded. “I started to think that George would be better off...without me.” Gasps went up throughout the room at those terrible words. Tears now escaping more than one pair of eyes. 

“You didn’t want to  _ off _ yourself?” Ron’s voice sounded incredulous as he scratched his scalp. A suicidal Weasley twin? The idea sounded preposterous considering how much each of them had always appeared to love life.

“I admit that I enjoyed thinking about a Fredless world, how better off George would be without me,” He said, echoing his Mother's angry words to him after the chaos at the wedding. He looked towards her, but it seemed that she had utterly forgotten about what she had said. How much worse she had made him feel. “But I would never have done that to George... to any of you.”

George had pulled him even closer at his words. “I can’t believe you thought that. The others will be able to tell you how bloody lost I was without you that week.” Fred too tightened his embrace.

“I don’t know why,” he replied softly. “But I know it’s not true now.” Sniffing, they eventually let go of each other and turned back to their family, hoping that the explanation which had been provided would seem a good enough reason for Fred turning to self harm, that there didn’t appear to be a large missing element to their story. 

Ginny looked from one shocked face to the other and felt that she needed to help set things right. “You know, how surprised everybody is speaks volumes about the way we all see the twins. As was most of our reactions to the way that George grieved when we were expecting completely different behaviour. Yes they are usually happy and joyful people, but why just because they like a joke and a prank do we think that they’re not capable of any other feeling?  That they too don’t go through periods where they’re sad, angry or disillusioned with themselves. After everything that they’ve been put through this year is it really a surprise at all?”

The twins were filled with new respect and warmth towards their sister, as they had hoped for she had come to understand them. 

“Thank you, Ginny,” Fred said softly.

“Yeah, thanks sis. Constantly trying to fulfill people’s image of us has become exhausting you know, we just wanted people to know the real us. But at the same time don’t think that we’re suddenly completely different people. We’re still the magnificent Weasley twins, just a little more human,” George smiled. Some titters broke out and Ron grinned at them, the atmosphere much lighter now.

“I’m glad to know that now guys,” Ron was the first to speak. “I didn’t understand how anybody could  _ possibly _ be so happy and bubbly all the time.” 

“Yeah, it hasn’t been fair of any of us to expect you to make everybody happy all the time if you’re not yourselves. It just shows what selfless, kind people you both are,” Harry concluded. Both twins could feel the positivity and love that was flowing towards them from their family. After the terrible things that had been said about them by Rita in the two articles that she had published, it was reassuring to know how much they were loved outside of each other. 

“We’re off to the bank before Harry says anything else that might make us cry,” Fred smirked, but looking utterly touched at the same time. “We’ve threatened our dignity enough for one day I think.” 

“No, it needed to be said,” Mr Weasley declared. One by one, each member of the family came to hug both twins tightly, all glad that their understanding of them had increased tenfold in the space of half an hour.  Fred and George promised that as soon as they knew where they stood with their finances that they would return for dinner. They handed the bag that they had packed to Percy, who had offered to save them carrying it around whilst they conducted their business. 

Things hadn't exactly gone to plan, the twins noted wryly, as they parted from their family at their door to head up the street to Britain’s only wizarding bank. But the road to recovery was not a steady straight line on a graph. It was full of obstacles, routes that took you back to where you started from- two steps forward and one step back. But the twins fully appreciated this. Armed with this knowledge and hopefully their family were too after baring themselves to them for the first time in their lives, they stood a far greater chance of eventually being okay again.

 

"Are you okay Freddie?"

 

"I will be."

 

"Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: These two chapters were originally one, but it got so crazy long that I decided to split it into two and treat you to a double update! I'm going to start working on the next chapter soon; I'll post an update on progress if things are taking too long. I'm going to start making some changes and additions to previous chapters, especially to the first 6 as I think that my writing has got much better since I published those. So I apologise in advance if people who are following keep getting notifications.


	37. Author's Note

Hi everyone, Chapters 1-6 have now been updated. I've added quite a lot so it would be worth having a re-read. Chapter 7 won't quite make sense until I make the changes there, as I've moved the start of it to Chapter 6. Updates for Chapters 7-10 should hopefully be done soon!  WeasleyTwins2


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